


Music While Drowning

by Semper_Paratus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama, Explicit Language, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Slash sex, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-02
Updated: 2009-05-22
Packaged: 2018-09-30 19:42:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10170386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semper_Paratus/pseuds/Semper_Paratus
Summary: Is giving up a choice or a result of circumstance?  Harry is not living his own life.  He is little more than a cipher for another to direct--but he is not without friends.  Help sometimes comes from the most unexpected places and those who are lost are not always gone.  This is a response to the challenge from Branwen777.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

Warnings: This is a slash fic! If you don’t like slash then you will likely not enjoy this story. There will also be swearing, (mentions of) rape, sexual abuse, and violence. There will also be a bit of angsty fluff and eventually assorted naughtiness. The horror!

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter and I am not even really responsible for the main plotline, as I said it is a challenge fic…

 

Music While Drowning

 

In no time the black river yoked all my strength  
I saw the lesser waters great and the soft banks steep and high.

Twisting I fought  
and heard the waters within me,  
the fine, beautiful black waters –   
then I breathed golden strength once more.  
The river ran rigid and more strongly.  
Egon Schiele “Music While Drowning”

 

Prologue

I first heard about Harry Potter when I was a little boy—just like everyone else of my generation. You would think that me being the son of the one he vanquished and raised by the most loyal Death Eaters, that the tales told to me would be different then those of everyone else, but they weren’t. You wouldn’t believe the stories that were told; constant talk that Harry would be the greatest wizard of the age, fanciful tales comparing him to wizarding heroes of legend. Some even said that Harry had been sent to protect the world and bring back the fabled strength and knowledge of magic from a time long passed. There were whispers that that he could be the next Dark Lord or even Merlin himself reborn. 

Very little was known about Harry after that Halloween night and nothing was known about me, before or after my father’s fall. Only the inner circle of the Death Eaters even knew I existed and only the Malfoys and Severus Snape were ever entrusted with my care. 

After that terrible Halloween night I went to live with the Malfoy’s to be raised along side their son, who is just over two years younger than me. I heard rumors that Harry was sent to live with muggles after his godfather was thrown in Azkaban. We all thought that it was disgraceful that a boy who was hailed as the savior of the Wizarding World had inexplicably been exiled from it. 

I had a good childhood. Draco was my best friend—my brother. Lucius and Narcissa were as every parent should be. They were strict disciplinarians when necessary and lovingly permissive when it was reasonable to be. I was spoiled. I believe that this was their attempt to make up for the fact that my parents were gone. I rarely met other children. Vincent and Gregory were the closest that Draco and I had to “outsiders” for friends, but I think that he was just as content with the situation as I was. They never hinted to me that they thought my father was still alive. I know that they wouldn’t have wanted me to hope falsely.

I have always felt a kinship with the Boy Who Lived. Both of us were now orphans. Both of our lives were immeasurably altered and controlled by those around us. Harry’s life was guided by Dumbledore and mine by my father, the “evil” dark lord and his band of murderous thugs. I remember dreaming about how one day Harry Potter and I would meet and then we would form some sort of connection between his world and mine. That he would see that we, the dark wizards, were not evil; that dark wizards didn’t live only to kill and torture all muggles or muggleborns. 

Together Harry Potter and Cassius Riddle would bridge that gap of understanding. We would usher in a time of peace and a rebirth of the old ways. We would revolutionize the government and education systems and make the world better. Dumbledore’s rule over the Wizarding World would finally be broken and everyone would see the callous, manipulative bastard for who he truly is. Harry and I would have an alliance that had only ever been attempted by the founders. But we would succeed where they failed. Finally the teachings of Salazar Slytherin and Lord Voldemort would truly see the light and people would understand. 

I was a very naïve child.

-0-0-0-0-

It was determined when I was ten that I would go to Beauxbatons for my schooling. The inner circle wanted to keep me as far away from Albus Dumbledore as was possible. They believed that I was too recognizable as my father’s son—that I looked too much like he did as a child and my power had too similar a feel. They also thought that it would be difficult for me to keep my parselmouth quiet at Hogwarts. (Harry would later prove that to have been a good guess.) I do not doubt that people would have expected me to go to Durmstrang considering my family’s much documented history as practitioners of the Dark Arts, but I was content at Beauxbatons. 

My time in school was good. Quiet. I found myself missing my adopted family terribly, particularly Draco. I made many new acquaintances in school. Lucius would have been proud of all of the highborn, self-important wizards and witches that all but bowed down to me. I guess I am more like my father that anyone could have expected in that regard. My mother’s family had long been the ruling family in France, even more powerful than the Malfoys in Britain. I was the last of her line and I used her name. I could trace my mother’s lineage back all the way to the Merovingian kings of France and earlier. Even in the muggle world my name carries weight, although time has lent it a measure of obscurity. I believe that only muggle scholars really remember its significance to their religious history and to the history of European nobility. 

All of this was supposed to be good training for me. In the British wizarding society my name is recognizable but in France, well we’ll just say I was never lacking in either sycophants or bed warmers, all hoping to align themselves to a strong pureblood of an ancient and prestigious family. I think that people saw me as cold, which is mostly true and why I am not going to pretend that I made any close personal connections in school. I had allies, not friends. My greatest moments of pleasure always came when reading letters from Draco, who was attending Hogwarts. The stories that he often told me of that “blasted Potter” were always entertaining… particularly as my fascination with the Boy Who Lived never waned as I got older. 

Sometimes I regret not having gone to Hogwarts, as my birthright would demand. I regret that I didn’t get to personally know all of the people that I have heard so much about. I can almost picture myself presiding over Slytherin House with my adoptive brother by my side… but mostly, I ached to see him. Not just the shy smiles they always print in the Prophet or the fierce determination I saw during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. I wanted to see him studying in the library, eating in the Great Hall, playing quidditch. I have always longed to look into those wonderful eyes and know that he was seeing me as well.

 

The Tri-Wizard Tournament

I chose not to enter myself into the tournament. Madame Maxime had been terribly disappointed when I told her, in no uncertain terms, that I would not make a spectacle of myself in such a way. She had even been eager to cheat to get me into the tournament, my being only sixteen. Lucius had been hinting for several years, and rumors reached me separately, that my father would soon be back. I knew that he would not approve of me exposing myself to Dumbledore and the scrutiny that would come with being a Tri-Wizard Champion. Madame had asked me if I wished to spend the year at Hogwarts with the seventh years. I believe that she wanted to show me off to Dumbledore and Karkaroff. However, no matter how much I wanted to finally meet Harry and spend the year with Draco, I knew that it was unwise. Not that Lucius, Narcissa, and Severus would have allowed me to go anyway. 

I was able to attend the first two tasks of the tournament. I waited eagerly to see Harry for the first time in person. Admittedly I was viewing him as no more then an observer in a very large crowd, but he was just as amazing and beautiful as I had always thought. It was all that I could do not to curse that damned Horntail when it attacked him. I think that if Draco hadn’t been sitting right next to me holding my arm I would have. The second task was much worse because I couldn’t watch over him. I was truly afraid when the time limit passed. I had seen him when he had eaten the gillyweed and knew that if he didn’t reach the surface soon he would likely drown. But Harry triumphed, as all good heroes do, and was awarded accordingly. 

I couldn’t understand it at the time, but I wasn’t allowed to attend the final task. I think that Draco had told his father and Severus about how anxious I was for Harry during the previous tasks and they had some idea that Harry wouldn’t be returning at the end of the third. I don’t know what I would have done if my father had succeeded in killing him. 

At first I was pleased that my father was back, even though he didn’t call me to him immediately as I had expected. In fact, it wasn’t until the end of the summer that I even saw him again. He was strange. Most of my memories of him as a child are hazy at best, but he had always been kind and interested in me. However, my meeting with him was less than satisfactory. 

Everyone had always told me how like I was to him in every way, appearance, behavior, personality… and I would feel pleasure at such a comparison. Complimented. Then I met him. He was frightening. In not only appearance, but his personality was nothing like what I expected. He treated me as if I were the lowliest of death eaters. I am not entirely sure that he even understood that I was his son. We spoke in parseltongue, which seemed to please him and disturb him greatly at the same time. He tested me. He kept asking questions, trying to catch me in lies—what about, I don’t know. 

Then he challenged me to a duel. I am a very good duelist, probably one of the best. My magic is easily as strong as my father’s and I am strong physically as well, but I definitely did not win. My father hadn’t hesitated in throwing damaging and Unforgivable Curses at me. It ended with a killing curse being cast and Lucius tackling me to the ground out of its path as I stood there dumbly watching it streak towards me. My own father cast that curse at me. He tortured Lucius for his “interference”. Nagini managed to distract him from turning his wand on me as well.

Suffice it to say, I was glad to go back to school.

 

Harry’s Fifth Year

My final year in school was horrible for all of us. My father’s insanity seemed complete, unwavering, and unstoppable. The Inner Circle was a disaster, being led by both my father’s and Bellatrix Lestrange’s madness. I was confronted with the very real possibility that I would have to kill my own father to stop his terrible acts. The only thing that saved us was that Father didn’t want the Wizarding World at large to know that he was back. He wanted to use Minister Fudge’s idiocy to have time to gather together and position his forces for the killing stroke before the Ministry even acknowledged his renewed existence. 

His attacks were quiet and even more frightening in their precision, which seemed greatly at odds with his otherwise erratic behavior. His cruelty seemed to be what the rumors perpetuated by Dumbledore had always proclaimed him to be. It didn’t fit with my memories and the stories that had been told to me by Lucius and Severus. I began making plans to escape my father if things continued on the path they were taking.

I didn’t find out about the depth of his obsession with Harry until after the Department of Mysteries debacle. It was a night that forever changed all our lives and altered the course of war.

 

Chapter 1

 

I’m the man in the box  
Buried in my shit  
Won’t you come and save me, save me.

I’m the dog who gets beat  
Shove my nose in shit  
Won’t you come and save me, save me.  
-Alice in Chains “Man in the Box”

 

Draco Malfoy strode confidently through the halls late after the first quidditch practice of the year. It had been Draco’s first practice acting as team captain and he didn’t even attempt to hide his pleasure in his new appointment. Everyone had flown well and he believed that the chasers were the best that Slytherin had had in many years. They might just win the Cup this year if Draco could pull off a miracle against one bloody Gryffindor, he thought with a slight frown.

Just as he reached the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room a dark figure stepped out of the shadows and Draco was startled to see the boy whose name he had just been cursing. Potter’s bloodshot eyes looked wild and desperate.

“Malfoy, help me please!” Potter cried shakily. “My eyes see and my ears hear but my words aren’t mine. My body isn’t mine. Please understand! Sometimes my thoughts aren’t even mine! I am his puppet—have been for years.” The distraught boy cried, and reached out a shaking hand to touch Draco’s arm, who jerked away sharply. Potter lurched forward and grabbed Draco tightly by the shoulders and pressed him against the wall.

“But I am me right now. I have been myself on and off since I was possessed by Voldemort at the Ministry. He can’t know but I can’t keep hiding it from him by myself.” Potter’s voice was shaking and Draco could feel his whole body trembling as well. Heavy breath, smelling of vomit, washed over Draco’s face. Draco felt his own stomach heaving in response. He tried to pull away but the look in Potter’s eyes had him frozen.

“Potter, I…”

“Please help me!” Potter sobbed then suddenly straightened an instant before another voice was heard.

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, is there a problem here?” asked a very familiar voice. Draco was amazed to see Potter, who had hardly been able to stand a moment earlier, look straight and tall and powerful before him. The grip on Draco’s shoulders changed from clinging to punishing. Only Potter’s eyes showed a faint shadow of the desperation so obvious only moments before, as they peered intently into Draco’s. 

“There is no problem here, sir.” Potter said, with a hint of anger in his voice, still staring at Draco. His hands dropped to his sides as he stepped back away from the other boy.

“Malfoy was just trying to start a fight with me, as usual. I am ashamed to say that I nearly gave him one. It won’t happen again, sir. I apologize.” Potter said with contrition. His eyes cooled and suddenly appeared apologetic and pleading as he turned towards Albus Dumbledore.

“Well then, I am sorry to say that I will have to take five points from each of your houses. Harry, you will come with me to Professor McGonagall’s office and Mr. Malfoy, I will be speaking to Professor Snape about your behavior.” Dumbledore lectured in a grave voice as his eyes twinkled brightly. “I would have expected both of you boys to have grown out of this by now.” The Headmaster added with a disappointed sigh that was at odds with the slight smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Harry, come.” Dumbledore snapped out abruptly and turned to walk down the hall—in the opposite direction of McGonagall’s office. Draco saw Potter pale, and then he shot one last desperate glance at Draco and took a shuddering breath before jogging quickly after the headmaster.

Draco stood frozen in his place, breathing heavily, until the sound of footsteps receded completely. “What in the bloody hell.” He whispered. His mind was spinning as he attempted to understand what had just happened. Draco slowly bent down to pick up his Nimbus 2001 that had fallen to the ground unnoticed when Potter accosted him. He paused before sprinting down deeper into the dungeons where he skidded to a halt in front of Professor Snape’s office and muttered the password to allow him inside.

As soon as the door swung closed behind him Draco shouted for his head of house. A loud crash sounded from the adjacent storage cupboard and out walked a furious Severus Snape… looking slightly disheveled. 

“Mr. Malfoy.” Snape said silkily. “What is it that brings you to see me in such a state? And it better be very good.”

Draco quickly relayed all that had just happened between him and Potter—every disjointed, rambling, and most importantly, desperate word. He felt almost as lost as Potter had looked.

“It couldn’t possibly have been a trick. No one can fake what I saw in his eyes, Severus. Can we help him?” Draco asked. Snape had remained silent throughout Draco’s narrative, giving no hint of his thoughts. “Should we help him?” All he could think about was writing Cassius to tell him this latest occurrence in the Harry Potter saga that so fascinated his friend. He was confused by everything that had happened and trusted Cassius to know what to do. 

Snape looked pensive for a long moment. “I believe that perhaps the Dark Lord hasn’t been the only one under some kind of control.” Snape replied slowly. “I want you to watch Potter closely. Watch him when he is with his normal group of idiot Gryffindors and when he is alone. Do not approach him. Watch for signs of the struggle that you witnessed tonight. I will attempt to sit in on some of the meetings that the Headmaster has always felt necessary to hold with Potter.” Snape sank slowly into an armchair near the fire, his billowing robe settling around him elegantly. He stared thoughtfully into the fire.

“Enlist Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, and Parkinson in this. Trust no one else. Their dedication to the cause is true and their occlumency skills are sufficient.” Snape paused almost imperceptibly. “And Draco… delay writing to Cassius about this.”

“But sir, he…”

Snape raised his potion-stained hand to cut off Draco’s protest. “If you were to tell Cassius about this incident, I have no doubt that we would find a shockingly Gryffindor Cassius Riddle storming the castle to save Potter.” He said, impatience making his voice sharp. “It is a minor miracle that Dumbledore doesn’t know about Cassius yet. We need to keep him protected as long as possible and he has never been completely rational when it comes to Potter.”

“Yes sir. I will gather information on Potter and report to you as soon as I have anything.” Draco hesitated. “What do I do if he approaches me again, Severus? Do I help him or brush him off…?”

“Listen to him. Make sure that whatever conversations you hold are completely private. Although from the interlude you just described, it sounds as if Potter won’t need a reminder for that.” Snape paused, pensive. “We need to figure this out. I will consult the council to seek their opinions on how to proceed once we have a little more information. The Dark Lord may not have been the only one freed by the events in the Ministry last year…”

Draco left Snape’s office shortly thereafter; both occupants had become lost in thought. The door closed with a soft thud. He hesitated slightly before heading straight to the owlry to send the letter that his teacher had warned against. 

 

-0-0-0-0-

 

My dearest brother,

There have been new developments with Him. He approached me, ambushed me more like, in the hallway. He seemed desperate and scared and rambled something about being himself for the first time since last June…I am sure you recognize the significance. 

Old Blue Eyes himself came and an abrupt change came over Him—as if what he had been saying previously had never happened. Not even the Imperious Curse could have kept Him from trotting along like a good dog after its master…

Further observation has been requested by my stern advisor. I will enlist the aid trusted friends in this endeavor, but I am also seeking your assistance due to your continued interest in this topic. Advice?

From,  
D

P.S. I was warned off of writing to you because of concerns of potential Gryffindor behavior. Don’t make me regret sending this message!

AN: This fic is also posted on ff.net


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 

My candle burns at both ends;  
It will not last the night;  
But, ah, my foes, and, oh, my friends  
– it gives a lovely, light.

Edna St. Vincent Millay “First Fig”

 

No ears can hear nor tongue can tell the tortures of the inward hell. –Byron

 

At breakfast the following morning, Draco watched with sharp eyes as Harry Potter entered the Great Hall. Draco had taken considerable care with the seating arrangement of his friends that morning. He had wanted to watch the Gryffindor without Dumbledore being able to see him. Crabbe and Goyle’s bulk certainly came in handy in many unexpected ways.

Owls came flooding into the hall at the same moment further distracting those around him. Draco saw his friend’s sleek black owl streak towards him and smirked when the bird imperiously offered his leg for Draco to remove the post. The bird fluffed his feathers proudly as Draco absently complimented him on his efficient delivery, not opening the letter until Potter and his assorted groupies had taken their seats.

 

Draco,

Someone’s concerns of Gryffindorishness are insulting. I am nothing if not appropriately measured and rational in all of my responses. 

All joking aside, I am extremely disturbed by your report. I will require additional information if I am to make an accurate assessment of what is going on. Keep me updated if you find anything strange, or out of the ordinary. Watch the one we seek carefully. *To be natural is a very difficult pose to keep up. But if my suspicions (based only on what you have written to me and my observations of another who has suffered from the same summertime incident) are correct then the behaviors you would expect based on prior observation are not the true ones. As you and I both know too well, *one’s real life is so often the life one does not lead.

Also watch those around him carefully too. If they are complicit that will complicate this situation a great deal. Watch Sextilius carefully. *He would stab his best friend for the sake of writing an epigram on his tombstone. He is a likely rat.

I anxiously await news.

Your brother

P.S. You are right that not even the Imperious could keep some people from frequenting that new club in Paris, stronger methods of persuasion would be necessary. The Imperious curse loses it’s effectiveness over long-term usage. Curious phenomenon, that... 

 

Draco glanced furtively at Professor Snape to see if he had noticed Cassius’ owl, and sure enough he was scowling darkly back at him. Draco smirked at Snape and shrugged his shoulders slightly before carefully pocketing the letter and returning to his Potter watch.

The Boy-Who-Lived seemed to be acting completely normal, but with Cassius’ words running in his head he began watching Potter’s mudblood and Weasel closely as well. The Weasel seemed to be acting “normally”. He was stuffing his face and talking loudly at the same time, occasionally spraying food on those around him. The mudblood was sitting with her nose pressed to her book, occasionally casting disgusted glances at the Weasel and concerned looks at Potter. Draco had seen house elves with more cunning… not exactly criminal masterminds in the making, this lot. 

Everything seemed… normal. 

For what felt like the thousandth time, Draco wondered what life would have been like had he and Potter became friends in first year. He smiled slightly when he imagined what Cassius’ response would have been to such a monumental event. All these years Draco had acted as the school yard enemy to Harry Potter, when the reality couldn’t be any more different. One couldn’t grow up with Cassius Riddle and hate Harry Potter. It was impossible. 

Cassius used to dream up scenarios, when they were very young, about befriending Harry Potter and going on great adventures with the boy hero. Draco couldn’t help but to have wanted to be Harry’s friend when they first met on the train—although now Draco realized that he definitely went about it in the wrong way. It made him sick that people as worthless as Weasley and Granger were the ones living out Cassius’ fantasy friendship with Potter… well he thought with a smirk. “I doubt they are living out Grownup Cassius’ fantasy life with Potter.” Draco repressed a snicker at the thought.

“Draco, darling you seem to be amongst the pixies this morning.” Pansy commented, rousing Draco from his thoughts. “Is there a new plot against the Gryffs that we should know about? They seem to have quite stolen away your attention... and was that an evil cackle I heard trying to escape.” She smiled mischievously as Draco’s face flushed. 

He turned and regarded her intently for a few seconds. “Would you be interested in a different sort of plot, Pansy? Do you have the nerve to go up against the lordly lion?” Draco growled quietly. He watched with satisfaction as her faced paled and she dropped her eyes to the table. 

“I do need to talk to you about something later. Come to my room after dinner and bring Nott with you.” Draco stood after casting one more surreptitious glance at the Gryffindor table. 

The day moved along much too slowly for Draco’s piece of mind. Whenever he didn’t have class with Potter all he could do was worry about the other boy and when they did have class together he couldn’t stop watching him. This was a pointless activity because as far as Draco could see everything was still normal. The Weasel was still a jealous, hot-tempered prat and the Mudblood was still an annoying know-it-all who would some day cause someone a serious injury when flinging that claw of hers up in the air during class. The only thing that surprised Draco after a day of observation was that Potter rarely spoke. He didn’t seem to do much of anything. When asked a question, he would answer it. The Gryffindors chattered boisterously around him, often during class, but Potter rarely spoke unless spoken to. He worked when Granger prodded and didn’t seem to notice or work hard at anything. 

“How have I not noticed this before?” Draco thought furiously to himself. “Is this normal behavior for Potter? He looks like a sad and abandoned little doll!” Draco realized that he never really paid any attention to Potter except when he was taunting him, or plotting against him.

Draco made it a point to have several run-ins with Potter throughout the day and had the further realization that Potter only really seemed alive when he was fighting. The vicious words thrown also seemed completely normal. But there was one moment the third and final time that Draco accosted Potter, when Potter looked at Draco and there was a flash of pain in his eyes that left Draco shaken. Incidentally, that was also the altercation that occurred after Potions, a class that they did not share with the Weasel. 

After dinner, which was uneventful, Draco hurried to his private room in the Slytherin dormitory. Crabbe and Goyle grumbled as they trailed behind Draco out of the Great Hall. He had refused to tell them anything beyond that there would be something of the highest priority that he needed more help with. 

Twenty minutes later the whole group had assembled and were listening avidly as Draco told them about when had happened between him and Potter the night before. Stunned silence followed after Draco told both his and Professor Snape’s suspicions about what all of this might mean. He looked at his friends gaping faces and smiled slightly.

“Well,” he said. “If I knew that this is what it would take to shut Pansy up I would have Imperiused Potter myself ages ago!” Pansy immediately snapped out of her shock and slapped Draco on the back of the head.

“I can’t believe this.” Pansy said, her voice shaking. “So you think that the headmaster has been controlling Potter…?” Looking at Draco’s smirking face she forcibly recovered her poise and smiled slyly back at him. “So that is why you haven’t been able to take your eyes off of him. I just thought you fancied him.” 

Draco choked and opened his mouth to deliver a scathing retort.

“Enough.” Theodore Nott interrupted firmly. “I doubt very much that you asked us all here to make jokes about Potter’s predicament. What do you want us to do? What’s the plan?”

“Do you all remember my friend Cassius?” Draco asked, looking intently at the other Slytherins, the children of the inner circle. At their answering nods (or in Goyle’s case, grunt), he said “Cassius is particularly interested in what is happening with Potter. He wants this to be our priority. Dumbledore is doing something to Potter and if we can expose his actions we can discredit the headmaster and maybe gain a valuable ally in the process.” He was of course not mentioning the fact that Cassius could care less about Dumbledore and that his only concern was Potter.

“So we watch Harry Potter, his friends, and Albus Dumbledore? Is that all?” Nott asked sarcastically.

“For now,” was the only reply that Draco could give.

 

A/N:

Short chapter I know. They will be getting much longer.

*All lines with an asterisk are quotes from Oscar Wilde. He was absolutely brilliant and I love him. I am kind of (very) loosely basing Cassius on Wilde—very witty and sophisticated.

-Draco and Cassius will be using a lot of code names for people in their letters. I will not clarify on who they are writing about unless I find that too many people are having difficulty understanding the, not-so-tricky code.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

We wear the mask that grins and lies,  
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes—  
This debt we pay to human guile;  
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile  
And mouth with myriad subtleties,

Why should the world be over-wise,  
In counting all our tears and sighs?  
Nay, let them only see us, while  
We wear the mask.

We smile, but oh great Christ, our cries  
To Thee from tortured souls arise.  
We sing, but oh the clay is vile  
Beneath our feet, and long the mile,  
But let the world dream otherwise,  
We wear the mask!  
-Paul Laurence Dunbar

 

“Malfoy.” Potter whispered from an alcove near Draco’s table in the library. Draco could only make out a glimmer of light reflecting off the lenses of Harry’s glasses. He stood slowly then walked purposefully over to the set of shelves nearest Potter and began perusing the titles. 

“Talk.” Draco said gruffly. He was eager to speak with the other boy. It had been weeks since he had enlisted the other Slytherins and very little had been discovered. In actuality all they had really learned was that the Weasel and Mudblood snuck off from Gryffindor tower to snog at odd hours of the day—information that Draco could definitely have done without. After moving away from the well-lit study tables and towards the shelves that Potter was hiding behind, Draco could see Potter better now and the Gryffindor looked drawn and pale. His green eyes were broadcasting the boy’s agitation.

“I-I have to go and meet with the H-Headmaster now, but I had to see you first. I had to see someone who knows.” Potter seemed to calm slightly as Draco moved closer, as if drawing strength from the other boy. Something that Draco would have found endlessly amusing if the circumstances had been different.

“I want to help you.” Draco muttered. “Is it the Imperius Curse?”

“Only for the first few years… I was able to throw that off completely by the beginning of third year.” Potter replied, shifting slightly out of the gloom that had hidden him so well. Draco could now see him clearly and what he saw was shocking. The Gryffindor looked to be attempting to pull his hair out with sharp, painful tugs. Draco was sickeningly reminded of a deranged house elf his family had once owned that always punished itself brutally for imagined infractions. 

“It started within weeks of being at school first year. I-I don’t know what he is doing now. I have so many blanks in my memory, Malfoy. Even now I sometimes wake up in different places, sometimes days after my last memory. But it is the worst when I know what is happening and I just can’t do anything about it. That is what it is like mostly, now… It is like constantly trying to fight my way through a fog. I hear myself speak and I can’t even believe what I’m saying and I have no control. And I am getting tired. I am so tired.”

“But it has gotten better since the Department of Mysteries last year?” Draco questioned.

Potter moved closer, practically leaning against Draco and whispered. “Voldemort possessed me in the Ministry. It was the most painful thing I have ever experienced. It felt like I was being ripped out of my body and my mind torn apart all at once. But when he left me there was a clarity that I have never felt before. The fog was completely gone and I was myself again. I could hardly remember how to breathe.” Potter took a shuddering breath and stared intently at Draco. “When he looked at me afterwards… I think that he felt the same. H-his eyes… before the Ministry all you could see in them was rage and anger… they burned with it… but after… well, that was the first time he ever looked human. I could see the same confusion and pain that I felt.” 

“Pott-Harry, you are not alone. I am not the only one who knows about you, about this. There are a handful of Slytherins, my friends, who are watching too. I have also been in contact with a brilliant friend who will come up with a way to help you. I know it. If anyone can help you fight against Dumbledore, it’s him.” Draco whispered fiercely, trying to bolster the desperate boy before him. “And Snape too, he’s in on this too. He’s-“

“No, no, oh God, no! What have I done? No, no, no, not Snape! No!” Harry moaned. He lurched away from Draco only to huddle against the wall. The distraught boy began to shake violently and bang his forehead against the unforgiving stone. 

Draco, shocked, pulled Harry away from the wall and into his arms. He strained and struggled against Draco’s grip. Draco began whispering urgently, “Stop it, Harry! You need to stop and listen to me! For some reason you trusted me with this. Keep on trusting me. I won’t fail you. I swear it.” 

Harry began taking big shuddering breaths and calmed slightly, but slouched tiredly, trembling within Draco’s hold, as if attempting to absorb his strength. “No matter what you think, Snape can be trusted. He is practically my third parent and I know him very well. He is clever and he knows all the players in this little game. He is the one best positioned to help you of anyone in the school and Dumbledore thinks that he hates you, but he will help you. I think that you will find yourself with aid from some of the most unexpected places…”

“I have to go.” Harry said reluctantly. “He is calling me. I can feel it, like a pull on my mind.” His trembling had subsided. “He’s really excited about something… that’s never good…” His eyes flicked up to meet Draco’s for a moment and then turned to gaze distantly in the direction of the Headmasters office, Draco realized with detached sort of horror. He pulled away from Draco and began to shuffle away. 

Pausing, Harry turned and smiled a pained smile and said, “For what it’s worth, Malfoy, thanks. Even if nothing ever comes of it, it is nice to know that someone out there knows that most of the time this isn’t me. That I am not really here… I have to go.” 

Harry reached up and pulled on a book so that it stuck out slightly from the rest. He turned and looked seriously at Draco and said “Happy reading.”

Draco stood dumbly and watched Harry walk away. He swore to himself that no matter the risks he would help Harry. He sighed, grabbed the book off the shelf and returned to his table. Draco was startled to find Blaise Zabini lounging in one of the chairs, looking like he had been there for some time.

“So, Draco,” Zabini said, sounding amused. “Am I to understand that the moratorium on Potter is over? Open hunting and all that?” He smiled easily at Draco as he sat back down in his chair. “After all, the two of you looked pretty cozy just now. From what I could see it looked like a very intense conversation. Are you staking your claim or is he still available?”

“He’s a Gryffindor, Zabini. They are always out of bounds for Slytherins. You know that.” Draco sneered. 

“Oh they are not as out of bounds as you might think, Draco.” Blaise said with a sly grin. “He is pretty fucking hot, I would say. That trumps house politics any day.”

“Watch it Zabini. One day you’re wanking over Gryffindor’s the next thing you know you’re humping Hufflepuffs… it is a slippery slope, my friend. Have some dignity.” Draco said dryly, flipping through the pages of the book he had retrieved. The book, he realized to his dismay, was titled Historic Heroes of House Gryffindor. 

Blaise ignored the comment and leaned in towards Draco, hiding his face from the rest of the students in the library. “Once I have broken him in I could be convinced to… loan him out… for a price. I have seen you watching him, Draco.” He said quietly. There was an avaricious gleam in his dark eyes that made the hair on Draco’s neck stand up.

It was all that Draco could do to hide his revulsion. “I never realized that the boy who lived was a whore. What makes you think that you have that kind of power over him that you could ‘loan him out’?” Draco asked with pretend thoughtfulness, trying to get the answer to this new puzzle developing in Harry Potter’s life. “I have never seen you with him and as you say, I have been watching closely.”

“Someone with a great deal of influence over Potter has promised him to me. Potter was my price for helping with a particular problem that they had.” Blaise responded with confidence. “He belongs to me, or will shortly.”

Draco couldn’t believe that the fool had ever been sorted into Slytherin. Zabini may be a schemer, Draco thought, but how could anybody be this stupid!

“What makes you so valuable that the savior of the wizarding world becomes merely a commodity to be traded?” Draco inquired. “After all, most of the world sees him as a hero and you as the Slytherin son of a woman with a habit of collecting ‘unhealthy’ husbands…”

Blaise smiled a nasty, sly smile and shrugged a shoulder. He ignored Draco’s jibe and said, “Let me know if you are interested and perhaps we can come to terms. Good evening, Draco.” Draco watched Blaise swagger out of the library and despaired at what could possibly be done to save Harry Potter. 

 

-0-0-0-0-

 

Severus Snape drifted to the dark and shadowy spot along the side of the headmaster’s office that he usually occupied during faculty meetings, after obtaining permission from Dumbledore to be present at his meeting with Potter. So convinced was Dumbledore that Snape was his most devoted follower that he didn’t hesitate to grant permission for Severus to attend. The headmaster had been almost gleeful at the idea of an audience for one of his weekly meetings. His only stipulation was the odd request that Severus was not to utter a sound the entire time Potter was in the room. Potter could know that Severus was there, they just couldn’t speak to one another.

Severus was roused from his thoughts by the headmaster’s voice calling out for someone to enter an instant before the clock struck nine. He was momentarily confused until he saw who had apparently been waiting silently outside the office door. 

Harry Potter walked into the room, his movements efficient, almost mechanical, and his expression was perfectly blank. Severus felt a shiver creep up his spine at the sight of those hollow eyes. Potter’s eyes were supposed to be fiery as they passed over Severus, seemingly without even noticing the potion master’s presence.

Dumbledore watched silently as the boy sat on a hard, wooden stool directly in front of his desk. This was an odd addition to the office. Usually Dumbledore seemed to prefer unsightly, but exceedingly comfortable, arm chairs. But not for his little toy soldier, Severus thought, feeling disgust and anger on behalf of the boy at the obvious slight. 

The headmaster observed the unmoving boy in front of him for several long moments, as if waiting for signs of disquiet or impatience, before breaking out in a brilliant smile. “Harry my dear boy, I think that you are finally going to be of use to me!” Dumbledore exclaimed joyfully. “I have been approached by the son of a very interesting and skilled witch. In exchange for your cooperation, his mother will help me with a problem I have been having with the new Minister. Now you may ask how I expect you to cooperate …”

“What is it you would have me do, my lord?” Potter asked dully. His head rose from it’s lowered position, but Severus could see that his eyes were still firmly locked on a small crystal paperweight on the desk in front of him. Severus could feel the nausea in his gut growing stronger at the sight of the old wizard’s contented expression and glittering eyes.

“Why anything he wants you to, my dear child,” exclaimed the aged man with a wide grin, the gleam of his teeth visible through the wiry hair of his beard. The headmaster went on to describe, in sickening detail, a wide variety of sexual practices. His watery blue eyes trailed covetously, almost lovingly, over the sixteen-year-old boy’s body as he spoke about everything from oral sex to extreme and deviant sexual acts. Leaving no doubt as to what kind of deal the headmaster had made on Potter’s behalf. 

Severus swallowed his revulsion when he realized that Dumbledore was becoming visibly aroused. His relief knew no bounds when the headmaster finally stopped the salacious monologue, only to watch with increasing dread as Dumbledore stood and rounded his desk to stand in front of Potter. The old man reached out an age-spotted hand and traced a finger down the boy’s soft cheek and with two fingers under Potter’s chin, raised the boy’s face. He gently tilted Potter’s face from side to side, as if to admire its smoothly elegant lines. 

“I never noticed what a beautiful boy you have become, Harry. I admit to being a little put off that it took another to make me realize… It’s the folly of an old man I suppose… to not see such beauty…” With his other hand, Dumbledore began to softly stroke Potter’s messy hair. After what seemed like forever, but was really only several long and intensely uncomfortable minutes, the headmaster gripped Potter’s hair and pulled sharply, eliciting a small gasp from the boy. 

“Zabini will likely approach you tomorrow, claiming his right to you. Put him off until I give you a sign that it is time. I need to see his whore of a mother show some proof that she will uphold her end of the deal before I will give payment.” The man’s fingers tightened painfully. Severus could see that Dumbledore’s knuckles were white from the strain yet Potter showed no more signs of pain. “Remember that you are mine first, always. You may go now, my most beautiful boy.” Dumbledore released his grip on Potter’s hair and gave both the boys hair and face one last caress before releasing him completely. 

Only the many years that Severus had spent as a spy helped him to maintain his composure as Harry Potter walked passed him when leaving the headmaster’s office. Potter’s expression was perfectly blank, but for a single moment when his brilliant green eyes flickered up to meet Severus’. In their depths he could see, for that instant, the pain and fear and revulsion that the boy was feeling. It was the only evidence that the boy was feeling. Severus viciously beat down his own emotion at that realization. 

He felt, rather than heard, the office door closed. Severus made eye contact with headmaster and mentally grimaced at the smug look that seemed so strange on the grandfatherly man’s face.

“Severus my boy, you now know my greatest achievement. He is such a good boy is he not? So obedient…” The headmaster smiled a wide happy smile. He stood up and began pacing between a window and the cabinet containing his faintly glowing pensieve, occasionally casting bright smiles at Severus. “I have really succeeded with him, Severus. All of those before Harry have been complete disappointments. Although to be fair I have had him far longer than any of the others. I let them have too long a period of time to develop on their own. That was the flaw.” He muttered to himself, beginning to get agitated. 

“I knew from the moment that I first heard the prophecy that this was my chance to finally make it work. I would have him from a baby. His parents practically gave him to me and in return I have had them all but canonized in our world. I have planned it all out and it is working, Severus.” The headmaster fixed his gaze on the other professor, clearly waiting for an answer.

“It was truly inspired, my lord.” Severus murmured softly. He wondered how the headmaster would respond. He had never referred to Dumbledore in such a way and had never heard anyone do it before Potter. He was curious just how Dumbledore saw himself.

His answer came in a pleased, happy grin. “I knew you would understand. You have always been almost like one of my boys, Severus. You haven’t failed me like all those before Harry. You understand why I must do the things I do. Join me, Severus.” Dumbledore waved slightly from his position by the windows overlooking the Forbidden Forest. “The boys I have chosen before have always been so similar. Handsome, clever, powerful boys… you are so different from the boys I usually pick, but you have always pleased me. Harry is the best I have ever had, Severus, but you please me very much.” He said, smiling benevolently as he insulted in his weak attempt at complimenting the other man.

“You know, I should almost thank the Zabinis. It would have never occurred to me that the boy could be useful in such a way. I suppose that I am too close to him and care for him too much to see that he is now such a lovely young man…” The old man’s face darkened. “Why should they get my boy… no, no, no, they aren’t nearly good enough. But Suadela Zabini’s assistance will facilitate so many things… no, no, I must not second guess… Leave me, Severus.” The elderly wizard’s voice turned sharp and dismissive. He began muttering under his breath and returned to pacing about the office.

Severus quickly left the room and didn’t slow his pace until he reached the privacy of his own rooms, only to find Draco leaning against the portrait guarding his door. He paused for Draco to move away from the portrait before hissing the password. Severus left the door open, knowing that Draco would follow close behind. 

Desperate for a drink, Severus poured himself a large snifter of muggle brandy and slumped down in his favorite chair in front of the fire. Silent minutes ticked by as Draco waited for his obviously flustered professor to compose himself.

Draco watched as Severus fished his pocket watch out of his robes and gaze fixedly at the small photo wedged into the lid. Draco had only seen the picture once. It was a muggle photograph of a young, red-haired girl whose face seemed vaguely familiar. He had never dared to ask the short-tempered professor about the girl; he only knew that Snape was never without the watch. 

Draco sat down in the chair opposite Severus and waited patiently. Eventually, Severus carefully closed the watch’s case and his long fingers smoothed over the lid. Draco couldn’t hold in a gasp when Severus’ eyes finally met his. He had never seen the potion master with such a grief stricken expression.

Severus raised shaking hands to his head and began to massage his temples with slow and even strokes. 

“Well, I’ll tell you my story if you tell me yours.” Draco said flippantly. Severus dropped his hands down to the arms of the chair and smiled a tired smile.

“You go first.” He said. “I am still trying to fully understand all of the implications of my story.”

Severus listened carefully as Draco described his meeting with Harry. He didn’t bother suppressing a smile at the title of the book that Harry tricked Draco into picking up. “Was there anything in the book?” He questioned, causing Draco to start and stare at him blankly.

“Yeah, pages and pages of self-righteous, egotistical bullshit!” Draco grumbled.

Severus smiled, genuinely amused at the little prank played on Draco by the enigmatic Gryffindor. “No.” He said slowly, “Was there anything in the book. A note… anything.”

Draco blushed faintly. “I don’t know.” He admitted. “Zabini was sitting at my table when I came back from talking to Harry.” Draco noticed that the potion master tensed up dramatically at the mention Blaise Zabini. “I take it I am not the only one with a tale about Zabini…?”

Severus ignored the question and waived an impatient hand for Draco to continue his narrative.

“Zabini is convinced that he has been given complete control of Harry… to use in anyway that he sees fit. He offered to ‘loan’ Harry to me after he has ‘broken him in’! Severus, what can we do? This will destroy Cassius... and Harry. You know that!” Draco cried.

Severus sighed, “I know exactly what this will do to Cassius, and as much as I care for him I am a bit more concerned about what this will do to Harry directly. I think that young Mr. Zabini will find that he is not so in control of Harry Potter as he thinks. Although Harry has been given to be used in such a way, the headmaster was already beginning to regret this decision. Zabini’s time will be short-lived and he will soon find his access to Harry denied… but I am afraid it will not be until after a payment has been made…” Severus couldn’t suppress a shudder at the memory of Dumbledore’s face as he touched Harry. “I fear that he is beginning to develop considerably worse plans for Harry Potter…”

Draco cringed. He dropped his head into his hands only to gaze wearily at Severus when the professor began to speak softly. “You were right about his eyes. They are at turns empty or filled with so much pain. I never wanted to see those eyes look at me either way… I…” Severus tilted his face back towards the fire and Draco was shocked to see a tear beginning to fall before his face was obscured by a curtain of black hair. The pocket watch reappeared in Severus’ hand.

“Who was she, Uncle?” Draco asked softly. 

“She was my first and best friend. I loved her unreservedly and I have failed her in every possible way.” He replied hoarsely and let out a shuddering breath. “Those eyes have never looked at me without expression. They have always been so full of passion… fury or love… but never hopelessness or so full of despair.”

“Lily Potter?” Draco questioned rhetorically.

“Leave me, Draco. Please.” Severus whispered.

“I told him that he could trust you. That you would help him, no matter what he thought. The next time we speak, I’ll tell him that he should come to you.” Draco hesitated, “By all accounts, she loved him unreservedly. Save her son from this fate and there is nothing that you could have done to her that she wouldn’t forgive.” Draco left the room, pausing to lay a comforting hand on Severus’ shoulder.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

These days my fingers bleed  
even before I bite them

Can’t play it safe, can’t play  
at all any more

Let’s go back please  
to the games, they were  
more fun and less painful  
-Margaret Atwood

 

It wasn’t until later that evening that Draco realized that Severus had revealed almost nothing about what happened at the meeting with Harry and Dumbledore. He had been able to glean a bit of Dumbledore’s plan for Harry with regard to Blaise Zabini, but whatever had happened in the headmaster’s office had disconcerted Severus so much that Draco had never seen the man so visibly shaken. Draco resolved to go back to his head of house’s office the following day to figure out what the next step should be in helping Harry.

But his first order of business upon returning to his room would have to be that bloody book. Draco was annoyed that he had let the combination of the contents of the book and Zabini distract him from something so obvious. After locking and warding his bedroom door, he began to page through the volume again, this time ignoring its contents and looked for anything unusual. After a frustrating twenty minutes of searching, Draco decided to see if Harry had a chapter in this tome of ridiculous bombast. Sure enough the Boy-Who-Lived already had a short chapter dedicated to his exploits.

Harry James Potter, also known as “The Boy-Who-Lived”

Born July 31, 1980 to pureblood, James Potter and muggleborn, Lily Evans Potter, Harry Potter is the youngest Gryffindor Hero to date. So named the “Boy-Who-Lived” for being the only survivor of the dreaded killing curse at the tender age of fifteen months, when little Harry managed to temporarily put a stop to the evil dark lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Rumors of continued heroic acts upon his arrival at Hogwarts School have been unsubstantiated, but seem consistent with such a prominent member of the proud House of Godric Gryffindor. (One of the more exciting rumors is that valiant young Harry pulled the Sword of Gryffindor from the Godric’s Sorting Hat and slaughtered the fabled monster of the vile Salazar Slytherin. Like Arthur’s Excalibur, only the truest Gryffindor can wield that sword!) What is known is that Mr. Potter is the youngest Tri-Wizard champion in 700 years. His victory was marred the by death of a Hufflepuff competitor. According to reports at the end of the tournament the victorious Harry and his companion were spirited away by allies of the wretched Dark Lord and it was then that the Hufflepuff was murdered and our courageous Mr. Potter fought the resurrected “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.” If not for the presence of the evil Slytherin’s followers, Gryffindor would surely have been triumphant once again.

Draco skimmed over the rest of the entry. He couldn’t bring himself to closely read anymore of the tripe and there didn’t appear to be anything that Harry would have wanted him to see in the ridiculous passage. Draco began to wonder if perhaps the solution was not in what could easily be seen. Maybe Harry only wanted someone who suspected that there was more to his story… more to his life than impetuous Gryffindor heroics…

“Revelo tabellae.” Draco muttered tapping the page lightly with his wand. Immediately the printed text disappeared to reveal a spidery scrawl that Draco recognized as Harry’s writing.

 

To The Curious Reader:

I don’t now if I am alive or dead at the time that you are reading this message. At this point, it hardly matters to me. I know that this book is self-updating and I know that it is likely that the chapter devoted to me and my “heroic acts” will change as the years pass. There is already a lengthy chapter on Albus Dumbledore espousing his “greatness.” Just a matter of months ago I would have parroted the story of Dumbledore described in this book verbatim. I was his greatest supporter and his surest ally… his mindless tool. 

I had only known about the magical world for a little over a month before I came to Hogwarts and here I found myself in a castle with real life witches and wizards about to learn magic. It was like a dream and I felt accepted for the first time in my life. I grew up in a muggle household where anything “unnatural” was severely punished and I was the most “freakish” thing of all. It was here at Hogwarts that I had found my first friends ever. When I talked people listened, not just the students my age but the older kids too. It was a heady experience for someone like me and I was dazzled by it all. 

Not long after I arrived, I was called in to the Headmaster’s office. I was so afraid before the meeting. I was sure that he wanted to meet me to tell me that it had all been a terrible mistake and that I would be leaving to go back to the Dursley’s immediately. That isn’t what happened. Most people think that the Imperious Curse is a constant, painful struggle. They imagine the horror of not being able to control your own movements, but to me the first months… year of being under the curse were almost blissful. I was so young and had already lived such an awful life that I was relieved to feel all my confusion and fears and doubts float away. I didn’t really start to fight the curse until the middle of my second year. 

During that year the other students thought that I was the Heir of Slytherin. While my body and mouth expressed horror at the idea, my mind was a bit more comfortable with the idea. I didn’t really understand the separation of my mind from my body. I heard a voice in my head telling me to do things and I believed that I had gone mad.

I didn’t shake the curse completely until the summer before my third year. I remember that it was like waking up from a nightmare. I was walking down the street from my relative’s home dragging my trunk behind me. I was furious and only could vaguely think of why. The only thing that I knew for sure was that the voice was gone. There was nothing telling me what to do or say and I was afraid. I stayed by myself in the Leaky Cauldron until the start of third year. During that time I discovered magic and rediscovered what it meant to be me. 

I was both excited and afraid to go back to Hogwarts. I didn’t understand what had happened to me, how I lost myself, but I had to go back. By the time I returned to school I felt stronger and smarter and faster then ever before. Magic was infinitely easier. After my first run-in with a dementor I looked up how to fight them and was able to cast the Patronus Charm with very little effort. A month of school flew by before it happened again. I was called to the headmaster’s office. This time I knew that he wasn’t calling me to send me home. My fears about not being magical enough were gone. Within days of the start of classes I realized that I was very powerful, much more than anyone else my age. I had yet to find a spell that I couldn’t perform after only a few tries and I didn’t hold back in class. In retrospect that was undoubtedly what tipped Dumbledore off that he was no longer controlling me. He had never allowed me to be so powerful.

He made me drink something in his office and that is the last thing that I remember until I met Sirius Black at the end of third year. I wasn’t in control of myself, but something about being near him made me aware again. I was only in his company for a short time and the next thing I knew it was late summer. I had once again lost months of time. My first vision of Voldemort was the next occurrence that dragged my mind to awareness. I realized that this time I would need to pretend to be the Boy-Who-Lived. I remembered how I was forced to act during my first couple of years and behaved accordingly. But in my mind I was desperately trying to find a way to free myself of the trap that I had fallen into. 

My pretending really didn’t work. It was during fourth year that the control on me changed somewhat. I started to see a bit of what was happening around me. There were moments when I was seeing things, as if through a dense fog. I faded in and out most of fourth year. One of the more startling moments was when I woke standing in front of a dragon! A bit of an eye opener, that was… But then again, so was waking and finding myself bound to a headstone in a cemetery face-to-face with my parents’ murderer. How I survived that night I will never know. 

Somehow Voldemort’s resurrection made things easier for me. I believe that the connection that we share through my scar started to help keep me more conscious of myself. The downside is that most of the time all he seemed to feel was an all-consuming rage and hatred of everything and these emotions bled through to me. I can say with absolute certainty that this was hardly the best scenario to try to regain your equilibrium. At the end of fifth year I found myself fully awake again after a particularly long period of darkness. It was the shock of seeing my godfather fall through the Execution Veil in the Department of Mysteries that woke me. 

I loved Sirius. He was the only person to ever look at me and see me—everyone else saw the Freak, the Boy Who Lived, or the Chosen One. I think that my attachment to Sirius was so strong because I seemed to always be around him during my moments of lucidity. Something about him brought me out of the dark. In Sirius, I had hope for real home and a real life. Through him I was beginning to understand what family could mean for me. He put me first. I had never had that before. His death has been the greatest tragedy of my life. 

It was immediately following Sirius’ death that I was possessed by Voldemort. Anyone who has not experienced forcible possession could not possibly understand the excruciating pain of it. I have been under the Cruciatus Curse many times (both by Voldemort and Dumbledore) and it doesn’t even compare. I had noticed before that extraordinary pain and my mental connection with Voldemort helped my level of consciousness. Those moments when he was completely in my mind broke something… I think for the both of us. When he left me I could feel his shock and uncertainty. There was a level of awareness in the both of us that I had never felt before. I have not been totally under Dumbledore’s control since.

Dumbledore controls Wizarding Britain more completely than anyone realizes. The rift between Cornelius Fudge and Dumbledore was well publicized. What no one knows is that everything happened the way the Headmaster willed it to happen. Cornelius Fudge is not a smart man. Greater men than he have been manipulated and controlled by Dumbledore and Fudge never did a thing that the headmaster did not intend. The long year of apparent discord between Dumbledore and the Ministry and me served many purposes. The first was to link Dumbledore and myself firmly in the minds of the public. We both supposedly suffered under the constant scrutiny and slander of the Ministry but we always stood together. The second, and probably most important, was that in the end Albus Dumbledore is always right. It reinforced to the people that Dumbledore, above all others, is the one to be trusted. That he is the great man who would save us all… along with his faithful protégé. I don’t have much hope for the new minister, Rufus Scrimgeour. He is too independent and isn’t playing according to Dumbledore’s plan. I expect that he will be killed by “Death Eaters” soon.

I don’t know how much longer I will remain myself. The fog is starting to come back in my mind stronger than it ever was. I don’t know how he is doing it. Something is different from all previous years. There haven’t been anymore potions like in third year—although there may be something in my food… The only thing that I can think of that seems out of place is when I am in his office there is a crystal that he keeps on his desk. I am unnaturally drawn to it. I can hardly keep my eyes off of the blasted thing and his voice in my head seems louder the closer I am to his desk. That is all that I know. 

I pray that some day someone reads this. It is the true history of my life. I believe that history rarely tells much of the truth about her “heroes.” I am not hopeful that this will be discovered in my lifetime but just the thought that someone will know of his actions and the realities of my life gives me a degree of comfort. 

Do with this information what you will, oh inquisitive scholar. 

Harry James Potter  
The Boy-Who-Never-Really-Lived

 

Below this letter, Draco was surprised to see an additional note addressed to him.

 

Draco,

If you are reading this then you obviously found the message hidden in this horrible book. I hope you will forgive me for making you page through such drivel. Gryffindors are not known for their humility or conciseness. If it makes you feel better the sorting hat actually wanted to put me in Slytherin, but Dumbledore’s manipulations had already started to have their effect on me and I talked the hat out of my rightful house. Think of how horrified all these good little Gryffindors would be if they knew that the story was of a famous lion who was truly a snake at heart. 

Since I approached you in the hallway outside your common room, all I could think about was what if I hadn’t fell for the headmaster’s line so quickly. What if I had been your friend and a Slytherin straight away? How would things have changed for me? I have so many regrets and wishes but very little remaining hope. 

I don’t expect your pity or anything. I don’t know what, if anything, that you can do to help me. I just wanted to thank you for listening. You were the only person that I could think of that I was certain didn’t like Dumbledore and would listen to me, at least for a little while. Now all I want to ask you is if you would get a message to Voldemort for me. Tell him that the next time we meet I won’t fight him and hopefully the killing curse will be more successful the second time around. 

Sincerely,  
Harry Potter

 

Draco sat stunned after reading the letter. Harry was plainly asking him to tell Voldemort that he wanted to die… Harry wanted to die. He didn’t know why that shocked him so much. Knowing everything about the Gryffindor that he now knew Draco could understand being desperate to find a way out… but death… 

For the first time since this drama began, Draco’s first thought was not about what Cassius would think. His heart bled for Harry Potter.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Agony. As Now.

I am inside someone  
who hates me. I look  
out from his eyes. Smell  
what fouled tunes come in  
to his breath. Love his  
wretched women.

Slits in the metal, for sun. Where  
my eyes sit turning, at the cool air  
the glance of light, or hard flesh  
rubbed against me, a woman, a man,  
without shadow, or voice, or meaning.

This is the enclosure (flesh,  
where innocence is a weapon. An  
abstraction. Touch. (Not mine,  
Or yours, if you are the soul I had  
and abandoned when I was blind and had  
my enemies carry me as a dead man  
(if he is beautiful, or pitied.

It burns the thing  
inside it. And that thing  
screams.  
-Amiri Baraka

 

The following day Draco called together the group of conspirators and made it a priority to show Harry’s message to everyone involved in the plot and describe the previous day’s events. Their responses were predictable. Snape read the messages blank faced and ordered Draco not to send a copy to Cassius. Unlike the last time, Draco listened. It is one thing to tell his dearest friend that Harry was acting funny, it was another entirely to tell Cassius that Harry wanted Cassius’ father to kill him. 

Pansy cried and then started a nasty argument with Draco about nothing. Theodore read through both messages several times then broke up the argument once he got tired of listening to them fight. Gregory grunted and Vincent looked pensive. Ok. So maybe the last response was a little shocking.

“But he’s Harry Potter.” Pansy exclaimed, her voice quavering. “How can he do this to the Boy Who Lived?” Greg nodded vigorously, reminding Draco that Greg had always brought up the “Harry Potter” game to Cassius when they were kids if Cass had been a bit slow in instigating their next grand adventure.

“He’s Albus Dumbledore.” Theo responded softly. “Harry is an orphan with no one to turn to and a powerful name. He is the maestro. He is the one who shapes our world. He changed Slytherin from a house renowned for it’s insight to one reviled for its wicked cunning. He controls the minds of generations of this world and he controls the government and the Wizengamot. He is a high ranking member of the International Confederation of Wizards. He has unrivalled power. That is what our parents have fought against and what we will continue to fight against. It’s just starting a bit sooner for us than we expected.”

A heavy silence filled the room as none of the Slytherins could bring themselves to refute that statement. Severus nodded while turning back to Harry’s message to reread it one more time, giving the children time to absorb the shocking story of the Boy Who Lived.

Once the metaphorical dust had settled, the young Slytherins turned to their Head of House to come up with a plan to help Harry out of his latest situation. Severus sighed and laid down the Gryffindor book as he looked at the expectant faces of his students, confident that he could solve any problem. They were the same age as Harry, but had grown up so differently. Lily’s son had had no one to rely on—no adult he could trust to make things better, to make things right. 

For the first time, Severus truly lamented the death of Sirius Black. He hadn’t cared a whit when the man had died. Even though his continued hatred of Black had been mostly exaggerated, he had never really forgiven Sirius his actions during their years in school. Black had been an unapologetic bastard most of the time. He had been arrogant and bullying and excessively proud, all things Severus abhorred. 

But after Azkaban, Black had been obviously damaged. He had almost been manic one moment and morose the next. His mood swings had been fast and unpredictable. The only thing that was predictable was Black’s love for his godson, and yet even in that something was a bit off. Severus suspected that part of the reason that Black hadn’t lost his mind in prison was his obsessing over Harry and the Potters to the point that they were really all he could think about. 

Severus sighed again and refocused his attention on the students in front of him. 

“I am afraid that our plans will only be slightly altered at this time. Follow Harry. Watch him and his friends closely. If he is with Zabini and you can reasonably interrupt what they are doing, then do so.” He paused, knowing that these children would have a difficult time accepting the situation. Hell, he had a difficult time accepting it. 

“We cannot simply separate the two without the headmaster becoming suspicious. If this scenario has proven one thing it is that we do not want the old man’s attention to focus on us… and I doubt that Potter can take much more of his scrutiny.”

“I will be meeting with the Dark Lord and the council this weekend. We will decide how to proceed at that time… Help him in any way that you can, but do not expose yourselves.” Severus said, his intense gaze examine each of the students in turn. Only Draco noticed that his hand had drifted to the pocket where he kept the picture of Harry’s mother. After finishing the inspection of his charges, Severus turned and swept from the room without another word, the Gryffindor book clutched tightly in his hand.

Draco smiled at the man’s dramatics. What had started as a method of cowing unruly students (i.e. Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs) had become such a strong part of Severus’ behavior that he now performed these actions unconsciously. 

Gathering his thoughts, Draco smirked and pulled out the copies of Harry’s messages that he had made. Passing one copy to Theo he asked, “Could you look at this and see if you have any ideas. Harry didn’t say much, but I think that there might be some clues here about how he is being controlled. I want to have something to distract Cassius so he doesn’t completely lose it when he reads this and hears about everything that is happening.”

Theo took the roll of parchment and nodded his understanding. Pansy began to cry again, sobbing quietly as Crabbe wrapped a heavy arm around her shoulders in comfort. Draco shifted uncomfortably and drew his cloak tighter around himself to ward off the dungeons chill.

“Vince and Greg and I will continue as we always do publicly. I will try to distract Zabini as much as possible, but I doubt that he can be dissuaded… He already thinks that I am panting after Harry so my trailing around after him and watching them together wouldn’t be so unexpected. The prick might actually enjoy an audience,” Draco said slowly. Plans formed in his mind as he spoke. 

He paused and only continued when Pansy had collected herself and was once again concentrating on the discussion. “Pansy, I think that you and Theo would be the best choice to have any visible contact with Harry. I doubt that Zabini will want to keep this a secret. He will want everyone to know that he has power over Harry. He will want the status that will come with that, so no one will question Harry being approached by either of you.”

Draco sighed and looked at his parchment. He had always suspected that there was more to Harry Potter than met the eye, but in his wildest imaginings he had never dreamt something so extreme. As his fingers traced lightly over the final sentence that Harry had written to him, Draco only hoped that they would be able to help the boy-who-lived before Harry stopped waiting for someone else to end his suffering.

 

-0-0-0-0-

 

Draco’s suspicions about Zabini publicly claiming Harry were proven correct immediately at breakfast the following morning. He watched as the Slytherin strode directly to the seated Gryffindor and pulled him up into a scorching kiss. 

The silence in the hall was absolute then exploded into excited whispers, primarily from the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables. The Slytherins watched closely, withholding comment until they were safely away from the Great Hall and the Gryffindors could do little but stare in shock as their leader was snogging voraciously with one whom many of them would consider “the enemy.” They were a very confused group. The most entertaining reactions came from Harry’s closest friends. Weasley and Granger looked like they had both had swallowed a niffler in Gringotts.

The rest of the day went much like breakfast. There was a lot of public groping. Zabini seized on every possible opportunity to demonstrate his hold over the boy who lived. If Draco hadn’t known what was behind this farce, he would have thought it funny how the population of Hogwarts reacted to Harry Potter having a “romance” with a notorious Slytherin. Well, the Hufflepuffs were calling it a romance, most everyone else just called it disgusting. And it really was disgusting. 

At lunchtime Zabini was practically pornographic in his display. Harry had been led over to the Slytherin table like a recalcitrant puppy and forced to endure a vigorous snog and grope over sandwiches and pumpkin juice.

It was enough to put Draco off pumpkin juice forever.

The days that followed were much like the first, except that Zabini seemed more desperate as each day went by. Harry was kept constantly at his side. Zabini, while still sticking his tongue down Harry’s throat at any opportunity, also seemed to take great delight in ordering the Gryffindor around like his own personal servant—always speaking to Harry in the most demeaning tones that would have had anyone else hexed beyond recognition by Harry’s rather large collection of followers. 

The Army, or whatever it was called, that Potter had formed the year before seemed to be the most disturbed. Its members were visibly discomfited by the out-of-character way that their leader was behaving. Draco had to applaud Harry on his acting here. Completely submitting to Zabini’s imperious and lascivious control was drawing attention that Dumbledore couldn’t possibly want, while at the same time Harry was responding exactly how Dumbledore had ordered. Draco’s respect for the Gryffindor grew by leaps and bounds every day. 

He was almost good enough for Cassius. Draco decided… almost.

Draco had heard reports from various Slytherins who had witnessed fights between Harry and his two friends regarding his new “relationship.” Apparently the Weasel was furious that Harry would allow himself to be tainted by a Slytherin and his mudblood kept trying to “help” him. 

Theo reasoned that if they were working with Dumbledore they would be supporting the affair between the two boys and encouraging Harry. The information was interesting but inconclusive. Draco hoped that Severus spoke with Cassius soon to share the latest developments because he needed his friend’s guidance desperately.

It was late on Wednesday evening when Greg came to Draco in a panicked rush. He had seen Zabini pull Harry down a little-used passage after once again publicly groping him for all the school to see and seemed a bit more heated then usual. Draco and Theodore crept down the darkening hallway towards the entrance to the toilet where they could faintly hear what sounded like labored breathing and quiet moaning. 

When they reached the end of the corridor they were surprised to find the door slightly open and could clearly see Harry Potter receiving a very enthusiastic blowjob from Blaise Zabini. Draco could feel himself get flushed and was only momentarily distracted from the pair by his amusement at Theo’s rather clinical interest. It didn’t take long for Harry to let out a soft groan, signaling his completion. Draco blushed deepened when he locked eyes with Harry.

Harry’s breath hitched and Draco noticed him blink rapidly then look down at Zabini, who was still mouthing his spent cock. Harry was breathing heavily, as he closed his eyes tightly for a moment. When Zabini seemed to be finally satisfied that he had licked Harry clean, he pulled away and looked at Harry with a glazed expression. 

Harry opened his eyes and held Draco’s gaze as he grabbed Blaise firmly at the shoulders and hauled him to his feet. He pulled Blaise forward so that the Italian boy was straddling Harry’s thigh and with his hands strong on Zabini’s hips began to grind the other boy’s crotch forcefully against his leg. 

Blaise bit and sucked viciously at Harry’s neck, marking his skin a violent red. All the while Harry’s empty eyes stayed locked on Draco’s. After only a short time, Blaise began mumbling and rocked frantically against Harry. Zabini’s hands had ceased their groping and became tangled in Harry’s hair. Draco strained to hear what he was saying.

“Please, Harry. I need your mouth on me.” Blaise pleaded. One hand moved to clumsily unfasten his trousers and the other looked to be trying to force Harry to his knees. Harry released Blaise’s hips and took a hold of his wrist. 

“No, Blaise. You need to uphold your end of the deal first. You know that.” Harry said, truly sounding regretful, while subtly reminding Zabini that he was not with him by choice. Draco felt relief when Harry’s heavy gaze finally shifted to the boy panting before him. 

“Touch yourself.” He ordered. “I want to watch you come.” He pressed his mouth against Blaise’s in a bruising kiss and then stepped back, completely away from the other boy. Blaise let his trousers and underwear drop to the floor as Harry straightened and fastened his own. 

Draco watched as Blaise beat himself off while describing how hard he was going to fuck Harry when the time came. That he was going to make Harry beg and scream for delaying their coupling. Harry didn’t say a word and kept his intense gaze on Zabini’s face. Blaise came quickly into his hand, moaning obscenely with the pleasure of it. 

Breathing heavily he reached towards Harry and pushed two of his fingers into Harry’s mouth. “If you won’t put your mouth on my dick the least you can do is clean off my hand.” He growled. Harry slowly pulled back, licking the fingers that had been so roughly shoved in his mouth. Annoyed at Harry’s lackluster participation, Blaise pulled back and used his soiled hand to stroke Harry’s cheek.

“I like seeing my come on your face.” He muttered and leaned forward to lick Harry’s other cheek. “Until next time, my pretty little bitch.” Blaise slapped Harry lightly. The spying Slytherins scrambled to hide as Blaise turned and stormed away, leaving Harry alone in the grimy, poorly lit bathroom.

After waiting for the sounds of Zabini’s echoing footsteps to fade, Draco cautiously approached Harry. Theodore followed slowly behind. 

“Harry?” Draco questioned softly when Harry wouldn’t look up. “Are you ok?” 

A hysterical laugh burst out of the dark haired boy’s mouth. 

“Ok?” He whispered. “You want to know if I am ok.” Harry began to visibly shake and his eyes were wild as he finally looked up. His eyes flicked to Theodore before settling on Draco. “Would you be ok? Is any of this ok? How would you like to wake up with some perverted little bastard, who you have barely even know, sucking your dick? How would you like to have to pretend to like it so that you could have a few days of control over your own mind? Every time I come back everything is just a little bit worse!”

Draco reached out to try to comfort the stricken boy, but Harry flinched sharply. The drying saliva and semen on his face was mottled in the dim light. 

“Harry,” Draco said gently, “you need to clean up. You’ll feel better…” He waved Harry over toward the sinks--careful not to touch the other boy. “Wash your face then we can get out of here.”

“Where are we going to go?” Harry laughed a harsh, almost hysterical laugh. “Where am I going to go?” The dark haired boy kept the other two in sight as he walked slowly over to the sinks. His eyes never left them as he turned on one of the taps and let it run. After nearly a minute he bent and quickly scrubbed his face clean. Harry quickly straightened and gave both Slytherins a hard stare. None of his distress, from only seconds before, was visible.

“What are you doing here, Malfoy? What do you want?” Harry asked, beginning to sound angry. Draco cast a confused glance at Theodore, who was watching Harry closely.

“Do you not remember what just happened?” Theo asked dryly, as if he didn’t really care about the answer. “Do you remember Zabini’s mouth attached to your cock?”

Harry gasped. His eyes blinked furiously as he looked to the spot where he and Zabini had been being intimate and then drifted in the direction of the headmaster’s office.

“We’re too close.” He whispered. “We need to go somewhere far from his office. We need to go now… it’s too strong… stronger than before…” He bent to rummage through his bag that had set unnoticed on the floor. Harry pulled out an old, tattered bit of parchment and mumbled over it, tapping his wand. 

“Take this” he said. “Go somewhere far from his office and I’ll follow.” Harry thrust the parchment into Draco’s hands and gave a hard look at Theodore. “Go now!” He growled and bent again, pulling a silvery cloak from his bag. 

Draco cast a baffled glance at Theodore, who was looking intently at the parchment in Draco’s hands. When Draco looked back at Harry, he was shocked to see the other boy disappear under an invisibility cloak. 

Theodore took the parchment from Draco impatiently and said “Follow me Draco. I know just the place.” Theo grabbed Draco’s wrist lightly and pulled the stunned Slytherin with him as he sauntered out of the loo. 

They walked at an unhurried pace towards the dungeons. All those of Slytherin house knew “safe zones” where warded alcoves were set up for members of their house by Salazar Slytherin himself. Or so the rumor went. Draco snapped out of his shock quickly and began talking to Theo about their most recent arithmancy assignment. Both boys were listening hard for sounds of the invisible Gryffindor that, according to the map, was following close behind; hoping that the other boy didn’t lose himself again before they could get someplace safe. 

Thankfully they only met the Bloody Baron along the way. Harry’s map helped them to avoid all the evening wanderers as Theo led them into the dungeons. He finally stopped well beyond any alcove Draco had ever heard of, so deep were they in the dungeons Draco very much doubted anyone but Theo and maybe Snape knew of this particular hideaway. 

After quickly checking the map, Theo turned and looked behind them. 

“Harry,” he muttered. “You need to be touching one of us. The dungeon’s protections were specifically spelled to respond to the Slytherin badge.” 

When Draco felt light pressure on his arm he nodded to Theo and led Harry into the protected area. 

Harry gasped as the tingling of ancient wards washed over him. Draco could feel the tension in the Gryffindor’s body relax as he seemed to reluctantly release Draco’s arm. Theodore sat down onto a bench as he continued to examine the map that Harry had given them.

“This is quite a piece of magic, Potter.” He muttered quietly. “Where did you find something this useful?”

There was a quiet rustle of fabric as Harry appeared out from under his cloak. His hands were shaking and his eyes were distant as he sat down slowly on the small bench. The silence was oppressive.

Draco didn’t have the slightest clue what to say and Theodore was examining Harry as if he were a fascinating, newly discovered creature. 

Just when Draco was about to go mad from the silence Harry said, “It was my father’s. He and his friends made the map when they were here.”

“It is amazing.” Theo replied, as if there had been no awkward break in the conversation. “Is it linked to Hogwarts then?” He asked. “The map seemed to be writing new pathways the farther we walked into the dungeons. It seems that there is a secret passageway, not far from here, into Professor Snape’s private quarters…” 

Harry laughed, his expression lightened for the first time. “I know two entire houses that would pay top galleon for that information.”

“Indeed.” Theo said, smiling lightly. “You can add Slytherin to that list as well. Only the Hufflepuffs wouldn’t take you up on that deal!” Theodore reluctantly handed the map to Harry.

“You are right about the top galleon though. If I thought you would sell it I would hit up ol’ Moneybags Malfoy himself!” Theo chuckled, jostling Draco with his shoulder. 

“Harry,” Draco began slowly, ignoring the banter between the other two boys. “I know that you don’t trust him yet, but I really think that we need to go talk to Snape--“

“NO!” Harry growled. He lurched to his feet and backed Draco up against the damp, stone wall. “Not Snape. You tell him about this and I’ll know, Malfoy.”

Fury giving him added strength, Harry reached out and grabbed Draco’s collar and lifted him to his toes. “I feel him all the time now. His presence lurks in my mind. I don’t hear his voice yet, but it is only a matter of time until he is ‘Master’ as well… I swear that you will regret it if you betray me, Malfoy.”

In a rapid swirl of shimmering fabric, Harry disappeared beneath his cloak and was gone. Leaving the two Slytherin boys stunned at the abrupt departure, until Theodore began to laugh.

“I hardly see anything amusing considering our present circumstances.” Draco said in an annoyed tone. He was still angry with himself for bringing Professor Snape into the conversation so clumsily, and at such a time.

Theo’s only response was to poke Draco in the chest where his Slytherin badge had resided not five minutes earlier.


	6. Chapter 6

Warning: disturbing stuff ahead (non-con sexual situation, but no rape)

Chapter 6

Mock Orange

It is not the moon, I tell you.  
It is these flowers  
Lighting the yard.

I hate them.  
I hate them as I hate sex,  
The man’s mouth  
Sealing my mouth, the man’s  
Paralyzing body-

And the cry that always escape,  
The low, humiliating premise of union-

In my mind tonight  
I hear the question and pursuing answer  
Fused in one sound  
That mounts and mounts and then  
Is split into the old selves,  
The tired antagonisms. Do you see?  
We were made fools of.  
And the scent of mock orange  
Drifts through the window.

How can I rest?  
How can I be content  
When there is still  
That odor in the world?

-Louise Glück

 

Saturday morning came entirely too soon for Draco and his cohorts. None of them were looking forward to the weekend. If so much could happen during days broken up by classes and other activities, they could only anticipate with dread what could happen on days that were completely open. After a long and stress filled week they were hoping that this day would be quiet. But of course, it was not to be. 

The sound of feathers and the powerful beat of many wings filled the air as owls flooded into the Great Hall. Draco watched anxiously as Blaise Zabini’s face glowed with barely suppressed excitement. Draco looked over to the Gryffindor table to see what Harry was doing.

He felt his heart clench at the completely blank expression on the other boy’s face. Draco saw that the mudblood and Weasel seemed to be trying, without success, to get his attention. Draco then looked to the head table, hoping that the headmaster wasn’t noticing Harry’s out of character behavior. The headmaster, thankfully, was absorbed in reading the front page of the Daily Prophet. 

Pansy gasped loudly. “Blaise Zabini! You have been holding out on us, your dearest friends!” She rattled her copy of the Prophet and read in a carrying voice:

 

“Suadela Zabini is a tremendous woman,” declared Minister Scrimgeour proudly. “Never before have I had the pleasure of knowing a witch who was such a perfect blend of brains, beauty, and spirit of community service. She is a dear friend and I have come to rely on her greatly.”

 

“What a load hinkypuck dung! ‘Spirit of community service…’ What does that even mean?” She asked incredulously. 

Zabini smirked, “No one ever claimed that dear Rufus was an orator.”

“Rufus is it?” Draco drawled. “When can we wish you and your family joy? Is Scrimgeour about to become number eight?”

Zabini laughed casting his eyes at the head table. Draco felt his stomach drop when the headmaster nodded slightly at Zabini, before catching Harry’s eyes and nodding at him as well.

Zabini began to shift eagerly in his seat, by the disgusted look on Pansy’s (who was sitting beside him) face, to ease the pressure of his rapidly growing arousal. 

Zabini looked at Draco with a broad smile. “There is no one who can resist a Zabini for long. We always get whomever we wish and they are grateful for whatever we give them.” He said pompously while rising from his seat. He stood still for a moment, glorying in the attention he was receiving from many of the students. When the rising tide of whispers seemed to have reached their peak, he quirked an elegant brow at Harry—as if questioning why the Gryffindor wasn’t already at his side like a proper courtier.

Harry slowly moved to Zabini’s side and took the Slytherin’s hand. Zabini pulled Harry into a heated kiss and groped him in full view of the Slytherin table.

“Classy.” Pansy stage whispered, causing much of the table to laugh in snide amusement.

Zabini ignored them all and began to pull a red-faced Harry quickly from the Great Hall. Draco panicked as he watched the pair leave the hall only to calm as Theo moved unobtrusively after them, following like a shadow.

 

-0-0-0-0-

 

It was immediately following breakfast that Severus was startled to find four hysterical Slytherins in his private quarters raiding his liquor cabinet.

“I will avoid asking the most obvious question of: how the hell did you get into my private chambers and move on to what do you think you are doing?” Severus snarled, startling his students, causing Pansy to shriek as her glass shattered on the stone floor.

“I am sorry but this is our first leap into your life of intrigue. Excuse us if we aren’t doing it quite right.” Pansy snapped.

“Watch yourself, Miss Parkinson.” Severus hissed, drawing himself up to his full height. “I might be willing to overlook certain impertinences due to our current circumstance, but I doubt that I need to remind you that I am still your elder and your head of house.”

“Sorry sir.” Pansy mumbled tearfully again, having lost her defiant energy.

“Now, would someone care to tell me why you are all in my private quarters, swilling my booze like it was gillywater?” Severus said his blank expression greatly at odds with his white knuckled fists. 

Draco silently passed him a glass of scotch and lifted his own in a toast.

“To failing utterly!” Draco said before tossing back Snape’s expensive alcohol.

“So that’s it is it? You are done now? You are writing him off as lost and moving on?” Severus asked in a deceptively mild tone, carefully setting down the glass that Draco had handed to him.

“What are we supposed to do?” Draco shouted. “Zabini is probably fucking him right now. We DID lose.”

Severus picked up his glass again and moved to his favorite armchair and sat. He sipped lightly from his glass, savoring the taste of his fine scotch. Finally he spoke, after feeling the anxiety in the room spike. 

“Perhaps you are right.” Severus said quietly. “If this is the strength and fortitude of Mr. Potter’s allies then I will deliver Harry’s request to the Dark Lord and arrange the time. Game over.” He took another sip and looked into the fire, ignoring the tension in the room. 

“Fuck you.” Draco snarled. He hurled his glass violently against the wall near Severus’ head. 

Severus didn’t even twitch, but turned cold, hard eyes on his furious student. 

“If your only goal in this was to stop Harry from sexual assault, then leave now. You are free to go. In fact I encourage it.” He turned back to stare pensively into the flames.

“My goal is to set him free. That was never possible without terrible sacrifice, on his part.” Severus muttered darkly.

“It’s so easy for you to offer up a Potter for ‘terrible sacrifice’ isn’t it Severus.” Draco sneered. 

The potions master lurched up out of his chair, face white with rage. There was an answering snarl on Draco’s as his chin rose in challenge. It was in this moment Pansy leapt between the two.

“Draco Malfoy, you need to shut up. As my mother always says ‘1Often silence is the wisest thing for a man to heed.’ Listen to what the professor is not saying!” She said sharply, gesturing towards the older man. 

“We are in no position to help Harry. We don’t know how he is being controlled so we cannot free him from it. And if we were to just take him away… well one of two results are likely, in my opinion.” Pansy said leadingly.

“Do enlighten me darling, I am positively on tenterhooks.” Draco snarled.

“All right, Draco my love. No need to get sniffy with me.” She replied haughtily. “I understand that this is particularly difficult for you when Harry has come to you personally for help. But you must realize that the first result of us stealing Harry away would be we are proclaimed the horrid kidnappers of the ‘Chosen One. We would have the entire British Auror Corp and the whole world of Witch Weekly’s rabid readers tirelessly pursuing our stunning selves. Believe me when I say that I am infinitely more disturbed by the latter in that scenario.”

“And the second, which is quite serious so do pay attention, is that Dumbledore would realize that Harry came to us for assistance and Harry would be declared dark and dangerous. I don’t know who would be more hated, Harry Potter or the Dark Lord. I am inclined to believe that Harry will achieve the top spot because once again, the Witch Weekly readers will hate the fact that someone so handsome became the root of all evil. After all, if he was evil they wouldn’t be able to fu-“

“Enough, Miss Parkinson. I believe that we sufficiently understand your point without further explanation.” Severus interrupted dryly.

“I am sorry Professor, but there is one more point I am duty bound to make.” Pansy said, her voice becoming rather strident. “Next time you and Draco decide to have a verbal brawl, I implore you both to remember the children. They don’t understand that you truly love each other and they get frightened.” 

Pansy smirked at Draco and Severus in turn then walked over to Crabbe and Goyle who were watching the proceedings with wide eyes. She took both of their hands and gently led them to a large sofa where they all sat, Pansy in the middle.

“Darlings,” she said in a syrupy tone. “We will let the scrappers have at it, won’t we?” Pansy once again took their hands and said, “Now, my poor dear boys, when Mummy and Daddy fight we must always remember that they truly love one another. Everything will be alright.” 

Draco snorted with laughter and moved to sit in the arm chair nearest Greg. He leaned over and patted him on the knee. 

“Pansy is right. Daddy apologizes for fighting with Mum.” Draco gave Severus a wide smile, who only shook his head and slumped back down into his chair again. Draco’s smile faded quickly as he longed for the scotch-filled glass he had lobbed at his professor’s head.

 

-0-0-0-0-

 

Evening found the Slytherin group back in their common room. Their Head of House had long since ejected them from his rooms with the order to send word when they discovered anything.

Draco had long since stopped attempting conversation with his companions. No word had come from Theo the entire day. His worry for Harry drove him to pacing in front of the common room fire. The other students in the room eventually grew tired of watching and were speculating on what had upset the normally calm and unshakably cool prefect. Every time the portal into Slytherin would open Draco’s eyes would flash over to the doorway, in the hopes that it would be either Zabini or Theo (with news of Zabini). Pansy kept trying to draw him into conversation but his anxiously racing mind was keeping him too agitated.

After what seemed to be an interminable amount of time, Zabini swept into the room—his manner disgustingly smug. Normally on a Saturday night, Zabini would prance about the common room posing and showing off his assets in the hopes that someone would take up the implied offer of said assets. More often then not he was able to arouse interest among the less discriminating.

Tonight however, Zabini didn’t linger for a single moment and went directly off to his dorm room. Draco would have taken this as an encouraging sign, if not for the light brush of (what had to be) an invisibility cloak against his hand just after Zabini passed by. 

Draco closed his eyes and sighed in defeat.

Theo entered hardly a moment after Zabini passed through. His expression was unusually solemn and he didn’t pause at he followed distantly behind Zabini through to the dormitories. 

Draco leaped to his feet and hurried after his friend, Pansy and Greg and Vince followed closely.

They found Theodore sitting on the floor opposite the door to Zabini’s chambers. Quiet murmurs could be heard from the room. 

“He shouldn’t be alone in this,” was all Theo said when Draco looked at him questioningly. Draco nodded and slid down the wall next to Zabini’s door. He would stay for Harry as well. The others arranged themselves in the hallway and an uncomfortable silence soon followed.

After only a few minutes had passed there was a surprised shriek, followed by a loud crash emanating from the room. 

The assembled Slytherins scrambled awkwardly to their feet and Draco launched himself at the (surprisingly) unlocked door. All thoughts of secrecy and discretion were gone.

“Vince.” Draco said urgently—drawing the large boy’s attention from the scene. “Go get Professor Snape. Tell him it is an emergency and bring him here.” Crabbe turned and immediately rushed to fetch their Head of House.

Pansy moved without hesitation to Harry’s side where he sat at the end of Zabini’s bed. He looked much as he had for most of the week. His lips were red and swollen, there were visible bite marks on his neck that looked rather painful, and his clothing was rumpled and mostly unfastened.

Draco watched as Pansy drew the shaking boy into her arms and held him tightly, ignoring his instinctive flinch at her touch. Harry resisted weakly for a second and then collapsed, boneless in Pansy arms. She lightly stroked his hair and face and began to rock Harry slowly like a small child and quietly sang a lullaby that Draco could remember his mum singing to him when he was a little boy. Draco tore his eyes from the pair to look at Blaise Zabini. 

Blaise was lying crumpled on the cold stone floor. Blood streamed sluggishly from a shallow cut above his eye and he had landed awkwardly on his side. His position looked extraordinarily uncomfortable. Draco did nothing to help the other boy as he turned dismissively from the scene.

Watching Harry being held by Pansy was disturbing. The Gryffindor was the picture of a broken man. His eyes shone with tears as he melted into Pansy’s soothing embrace and yet there was awkwardness in how Harry held himself, as if the boy had never been comforted in such a way.

Severus arrived so quickly he had to have been waiting for the summons. Draco could easily visualize the man sitting in front of his fire, imagining endless horrors. He wondered if the panicked summons by Crabbe had come as something of a relief to the anxiety of wondering what could be happening.

“Explain.” Severus ordered tersely, barely sparing a glance at the unconscious boy. He clearly thought that Draco had interfered.

Theodore stepped forward and described the day’s events starting the moment that Zabini and Harry had left the Great Hall after breakfast. After a quick stop in the bathroom, which apparently Zabini thought of as an ideal spot for a bit of oral stimulation, the pair joined Madame Zabini, her newest conquest, and most of the British wizarding press in Hogsmeade for a “private” family luncheon. This of course evolved into a press conference then photo shoot of the family enjoying a leisurely day bonding over Zonkos joke products and Butterbeer.

They had only just returned as the photographers and the Zabinis had been quite reluctant to part. 

“What do we do now?” Draco asked. He was at a complete loss as to what to do next. 

“We alter Zabini’s memory.” Theo suggested while glancing at Severus, who had hardly left off glaring at Zabini since Theodore had begun to speak.

“We will need to do more than that to trick the headmaster and this fool.” Severus growled. 

“I’ll do it,” said a determined voice, drawing everyone’s attention to Harry for the first time during their plotting. “Dumbledore will check and so will Blaise, if they have any doubts. The sheets… they are too clean… and no one else should use magic in here… he can sense it.”

Harry detached himself gently from Pansy and walked over to Blaise’s school bag and began riffling through it. He quickly emerged, holding a shining silver potions knife.

Draco watched silently as Harry dragged the knife across his forearm, cutting deeply. Harry stood over the bed as his blood poured from the deep wound. After watching impassively for almost a minute he bent over and rubbed his injured arm forcefully into the blankets, smearing the blood deep into the bedding and mattress below. He cocked his head examine the mess and tutted softly.

“Now, now I almost forgot something very important in this mix.” He turned and walked over to the unconscious boy still lying awkwardly on the floor. Draco saw Harry’s wand appear in his hand as he began waving it lazily over Blaise’s prone body. He was surprised to see that Harry was very efficiently healing all of Blaise’s visible wounds and moving his body to a more natural position. 

Severus coughed softly, gaining Harry’s attention, and gestured to the wound that was bleeding sluggishly on Harry’s arm. Harry smiled slightly and whispered “Not yet.” 

Harry mumbled softly and Blaise woke with a start. He seemed to be in some pain, but nothing extraordinary, as he looked at Harry in shock. 

“What happened?” He whispered. “Did we…? I remember kissing and then nothing…” Blaise looked at Harry in confusion and everyone was shocked when they heard a whispered “Imperio.”

Harry’s wand was trained on Blaise as the other boy moved easily to his feet. “Walk over to the bed, love.” Harry said without emotion. “We are alone in your room and you are about to fuck me bloody and we are both loving every minute of it.” Harry’s eyes flicked to Draco and then to Pansy. Draco got the message. 

Walked quickly and quietly to Pansy’s side and whispered “He doesn’t want you to see this. Go with Greg and Vince to my room and wait there. As soon as this is sorted out I'll bring Harry.” He looked to Crabbe and Goyle, who had already moved to flank Pansy. Vincent gently took her hand and began to lead her from the room. Gregory shuffled close behind, looking lost.

Draco returned his attention to Harry and the horrifying scene before him. The moment the door closed, Blaise began to eagerly pull off his clothes and leering at the empty bed. Draco was stunned. Zabini looked as if he truly believed that Harry was on the bed waiting for him, rather then standing behind him blank faced. 

Draco exchanged a shocked look with Theo and Severus as Zabini launched himself onto the bed and began to violently hump the mattress. He was growling and cursing at “Harry” beneath him—berating his lover for making him wait needlessly and asking him if he liked his punishment. Within minutes, Blaise let out a shuddering scream and a red light flashed out from Harry’s wand. Blaise collapsed face down onto the bed. 

The room was absolutely still with the only sound being Blaise’s heavy breathing and the disturbing smell of sex and sweat and blood overwhelmed their senses. Draco reluctantly raised his eyes from the floor by his feet to look at Severus and Theodore, who both looked decidedly ill, before finally resting on Harry. The Gryffindor’s face was completely blank as he looked at the naked form on the bed. He blinked a few times and then looked back at Draco. 

“One more ingredient to make the potion complete.” Harry said in a sing-song voice that made Draco shudder. Harry’s wand flicked over Blaise’s body, turning Zabini onto his back, and moved to stand over the prone boy. Draco watched in shock as Harry unfastened his trousers with a shaking hand. He couldn’t tear his eyes away as Harry took himself in hand and whispered a spell. 

In a heartbeat, Harry’s penis was fully engorged and weeping in his hand. It only took a few firm strokes before Harry let out a breathy moan and his come spurted out over Zabini’s chest and abdomen. A trembling hand scrubbed hard against the blood still running down his arm then moved to the Italian boy’s flaccid penis and smeared the blood liberally onto the unconscious boy’s dark skin then moved to his belly and spread the cooling fluid so it covered in uneven patches. 

When he appeared to be satisfied by the scene Harry pulled back sharply and used his wand to clean off his hand before returning his attention to the Italian boy.

Harry crouched down near Blaise’s head and began whispering while his wand began moving in complicated patterns over Blaise’s body and the bed. Draco watched, his shock complete when a pair of shiny handcuffs appeared at the head of the bed and Harry smeared a bit more blood from his arm onto them, dulling their shine. 

He stepped back and looked at the scene while absently healing his arm Draco must have made some kind of sound because Harry’s head whipped towards him and Draco found himself fixed in the most intense stare.

Harry broke their eye contact and looked at the floor, turning away from the bed as if dismissing it completely. “He’s a kinky bastard.” Harry muttered. “This was one of the fantasies that I saw in his head. To have me chained and bloodied in his bed… he’ll feel like he got his money’s worth…” 

The Gryffindor shifted uncomfortably, still avoiding eye contact with anyone in the room. “Can we get out of here? Everything is in place… Blaise is really the only one that needs to be fooled and he isn’t as clever as he believes himself to be. Dumbledore won’t care as long as the Zabinis are satisfied…”

“Of course.” Theodore said easily, as if nothing unusual had just happened. For once Draco was grateful for the oddly detached way that his friend responded to emotional scenarios. Severus, Draco saw, was still in no shape to take control of the situation. Theodore lightly touched Severus on the elbow and guided him out of the room. Harry threw his invisibility cloak over himself and disappeared from view. 

“Lead on MacDuff,” announced a disembodied voice from behind Draco, announcing Harry’s position and intentions. He would follow Draco to meet, for the first time, with the entire group of conspirators.

Draco forced his rubbery legs to move, his mind still numb, and walked to his room. After entering, he waited until he felt Harry move past him and shut the door firmly behind him. Harry reappeared with his wand in hand and began casting powerful warding spells on the door and around the room. Everyone watched in silence as Harry continued to cast for a full minute before stopping. Magic was thick in the air, making their skin tingle. Even Severus was looking astonished at the variety and power of spells used.

Pansy stood as soon as Harry lowered his wand and pulled the boy into a fierce hug. “This will not continue, Harry. If I have to kidnap you and hide you away myself, we will see this finished.” Pansy began to cry softly and clutched him tight. Harry sighed and patted her awkwardly on the back and pulled himself out of her arms. 

“Do you know…?” Harry began softly, breaking the silence. “I actually enjoyed messing with Zabini’s head. Controlling my little play-thing and making him believe whatever I chose…”

Harry gave a harsh laugh while tears spilled over his cheeks. “You lot should keep your distance. Soon enough I will be him. Every week that goes by the closer I am to it. Eventually I won’t mind being fucked by some desperate loser or groped by an ancient pervert; anything for my ‘greater good’.” 

He turned and gazed mournfully at Severus. “And you are at the most risk, Professor. I know that you aren’t loyal to him. I don’t particularly care where your loyalties truly lie, but if he finds out they aren’t with him… you’re dead… or you’ll wish you were.”

“That’s enough.” Severus snapped. For the first time he regained some of his infamous poise. 

“Draco said that you are not with Dumbledore and that you want to help me… is that true?” Harry asked. 

“Yes, I… do you remember, Potter? Do you remember what you saw when you looked into my pensieve last year?” Severus asked hesitantly.

After Harry nodded slightly, Severus continued, “That was one of my worst memories because that was the last time your mother ever willingly spoke to me. She was the first friend that I ever had. We grew up in the same neighborhood…” Severus took a deep, shaky breath. “I have loved her almost my whole life. I want to help you.”

“So many people compare me to my parents. I look like my father and I act like a mix of the two, and maybe once that was true--but no longer. Whatever I might have been has been completely wiped away by the headmaster. I think that when I was little I had quite a lot of my mother in me.” Harry’s expression softened as Pansy patted him gently on the back. 

“Sirius would have been disappointed in that, I think… Now I am probably more him than anything.

“It’s funny,” Harry continued. “My parents had all these amazing friends, who loved them so much, and yet the first I hear of them and these great friendships is more than a decade after their deaths…”

“No, I am talking now.” Harry said sharply when Severus drew a deep breath to speak. “Sirius was in prison, Lupin is a weak-willed twat, what’s your excuse?”

Severus felt Harry’s eyes pierce into him with a force he had never felt before. 

Legilimency. Powerful legilimency. Severus thought as he was once again stunned by each new piece of Harry Potter that was revealed to him. Severus’ occlumency shields had held, but only just barely. 

“How do you know this magic, Potter.” Severus whispered. His head was pounding with the brutal battering his mind had just endured.

“Oh please, Professor.” Harry scoffed. “Do you really think that you have been to every meeting in the headmaster’s office in the last week?

“Where do you think that I learned some of the spells that I used in Blaise’s room? Hmmm?” Harry sneered weakly. “Apparently I am very good at hands-on learning…”

“If you thought that hurt, how do you think you would have faired if I had put some real effort into cracking open that head of yours.” At Snape’s disbelieving stare Harry rolled his eyes and continued. “I have been fighting against Dumbledore’s mind magics since I was eleven. It had to have some effect, don’t you think?”

Severus stood, uncharacteristically gaping at the Gryffindor. All of the Slytherins were. Harry took in the assembled group’s astonishment and laughed roughly.

“How did Voldemort find out about the prophecy, Professor?” Harry changed the subject abruptly, his voice deceptively mild.

“I… what?” Severus stammered.

“It’s just that… I had wondered for years now why Voldemort offered to spare my mother. He is not a fan of letting witnesses live, after all, and yet he told her to stand aside. The price of her survival was to let me die…” 

“Draco keeps telling me to trust you. I just want him, all of them really, to know why that might be a difficult prospect.” Harry said quietly.

“What was the price of your betrayal?” Harry pressed.

The potions master stood trembling against the wall of Draco’s room. His face was gray, his eyes glistened with unshed tears, and he looked ready to collapse. No one moved to help him.

“I heard that Dumbledore would be in the Hogs Head that day.” Severus gasped. He took a shuddering breath. “When I heard the prophecy I went straight to the Dark Lord with it. I had hoped that if he would stop obsessing about his mortality then he would be our leader again. The cause was losing ground and those loyal to it were leaving in droves.”

“And when you discovered that it was my family that he was targeting…”

“I begged him to let Lily live.” Severus whispered.

“And what of my father and me?” Harry asked gently.

“I didn’t care. I thought of nothing but Lily-“

“That’s a lie.” Harry growled. “Tell the truth.” There was power, compulsion in his words. “You weren’t only pleased at the idea of her being free, were you? Lily would be free and the Potter line would be ended. That was your true reward!”

“No! That’s not true!” Severus sobbed. “I went to Dumbledore. I begged him to keep h- you all safe!”

“Why would he do something so foolish as to keep her safe… keep me safe.” 

“He promised!” Severus shouted, spittle flying. “He promised me that he would hide her away!”

“Of course, Dumbledore wouldn’t lie. Would he?” Harry said sarcastically. “He was only the man that you joined an organization to fight against. A man who was just handed the perfect weapon to strike down his enemies and you expected him not to use it? I only thought you were a traitor, I didn’t suspect that you were a fool as well!”

Only the sounds of Severus’ harsh weeping filled the room. The young Slytherins sat in stunned silence. Draco had tears in his eyes as he watched the man, whom he had respected above nearly all others, being ripped to pieces.

Harry was unmoved.

“He used you. He used you to put the prophecy in motion. He knew who the real secret keeper was and he knew that Wormtail wasn’t loyal to my father. The whole situation couldn’t have played out more perfectly if he had orchestrated it himself. He took this as a sign that he was right. That I was his to mold into a successor that would continue his dream for the world.”

“Voldemort would have let her live you know. He didn’t lie to you.” Harry continued softly. “You just never really understood my mother. She would have never survived my death. Lily Evans fought for those she loved and she loved me. She fought for you once but you threw it back in her face…”

“I went to Dumbledore after that night.” Severus whispered hoarsely. “I begged him to kill me. I knew it was my fault. All of it. I wouldn’t stop you if you wanted to kill me now!”

Harry smiled gently and said, “What use would you be to me dead?”

Severus flinched sharply, as if he had been slapped. 

“If a time ever comes when you can’t take it anymore, come to me. I will get you away from here, away from him, not matter the cost.”

Harry smiled again. “It’s the price of your redemption.”

 

-0-0-0-0-

 

AN: Harry’s line “But what use would you be…” was actually taken from Dumbledore’s line in Deathly Hallows. The whole scene in that book with Dumbledore and Snape was actually my most and least favorite part of the book. It added so much depth to Dumbledore and Snape’s characters. Snape wasn’t so sneering and stoic and Dumbledore wasn’t all platitudes and twinkles. I hated it because I loved twinkly Dumbledore and I loved it because it made him a real person. My favorite characters in books are the ambiguous ones. Flawed characters are by far the most interesting!

It is that Dumbledore (only really, really crazy) that I am trying to write. In future chapters you will see that he is not so completely evil, just ill. And Snape, well he really is a bastard but he did love someone so much that he spent his entire miserable life devoted to her and her memory. My Snape isn’t quite so horrible but you can assume that the whole conversation with Dumbledore that Harry watched in the pensieve (in DH up until the sixth year stuff) did happen in this story.

Also the line where Harry orders Snape to “Tell the truth,” is the young Tom Riddle from HBP. If you thought that Harry was a little strange in this chapter (going from being reasonably distraught to manipulating Snape) than you are right! Harry is really screwed up and I want him to seem like a bit of a mix of Dumbledore and Tom Riddle. The real Harry will start coming out once he is in a safer position.

I have gotten several reviews (on ff.net) begging for Harry to not have to suffer quite so much, and as much as I would like to oblige he will probably have quite a lot of trouble for the next bunch of chapters. For some reason I am enjoying making everyone suffer a bit in this story. Snape is confronted with the results of his actions, the young Slytherins are learning fast that the adults don’t have all the answers, and you will see what happens with some of the other characters… 

1Pansy’s mother didn’t really say this because (astonishingly enough) it was actually a Greek lyric poet named Pindar. 

Another fanfic writer once said at the end of a particularly long chapter that long chapters deserved reviews. I agreed whole heartedly… just saying…


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

I read all of the fan magazines. There you have it—my most embarrassing secret. You probably thought that my obsession with Harry was it, but no. I am not embarrassed about that. I have an addiction to the magazines. Although, I suppose the real addiction is to news about Harry, so one could argue that perhaps I am embarrassed about the extent of my interest in him. Every time I see a magazine with a picture of Harry Potter on the cover, I squeal like a silly little girl--at least mentally. Absolutely humiliating, I know! I think that I have learned and used nearly every concealment charm known to wizards to hide them. I even came up with a few new ones in my paranoid attempt to keep anyone from seeing my collection.

Last year, it was Harry’s infamous interview in The Quibbler that made me begin to make plans to stop my father. The candid and accurate description of what happened to him, what my father did to him was almost more than I could take. Before reading that interview, I had only made plans to run. There is nothing that I wouldn’t do for Harry Potter. He needs someone on his side that will defend him without hesitation or reservation. Sirius Black was that person for Harry for a while. His tragic death in the Department of Mysteries left Harry alone, without a real defender. 

If my father’s sanity hadn’t been returned to him that night he would be dead right now for his sins against Harry. Willing or not, I find it nearly impossible to be in my father’s presence without thinking about him torturing Harry and the losses Harry has suffered at my father’s hands. I have tried desperately to bring back all the feelings of happiness and safety that I remember from when I was just a small boy who loved his father. Or to dredge up the awe that I felt when told stories of the great Lord and knew that they were talking about my father. I understand now that he has been controlled, much the way that Harry had been, but I am finding it to be very hard getting past his actions. 

I think that *children begin by loving their parents. After a time they judge them. Rarely, if ever do they forgive them. 

 

-0-0-0-0-

 

It was a meeting of men that would strike fear into the hearts of most of the Wizarding World. Faces that one was accustomed to seeing on wanted posters filled the room. At the head of the long, glossy table sat a monstrous looking man. He had a face that was whiter than a skull, with a nose that was flat as a snake’s (GoF), and had glowing crimson eyes.

It was into this meeting of fearsome people that an unlikely person entered. He was a handsome young man, who walked with a confidence that only the young possess. If he felt any fear or consternation at being surrounded by such a group, he showed no signs of it. 

Conversation flowed easily among those in attendance. There was no apparent pause or and indication that they had noticed the young man enter the room. He walked to the seat immediately to the right of the red-eyed man and sat down gracefully. After nodding to the head of the table, he observed the chattering group with a faint smile. 

“*Whenever people talk to me about the weather I feel almost certain that they mean something else. If we are to work together we must have understanding. Let us speak plainly. I seriously doubt that you were discussing the increase in the price of potions ingredients before I came in.” Cassius said easily, his voice cutting through the idle talk. “Tell me your concerns and I will attempt to satisfy them.” 

The silence in the room was oppressive and no one would meet his eyes. Cassius looked at Lucius, Severus, and his father in turn. None of them seemed to want to explain what was happening. It would have been amusing, seeing this room of some of the most powerful wizards and witches in Britain acting afraid of him, if not for the heavy weight beginning to lodge itself in his gut.

The flutter of wings broke the silence as Cassius’ owl swooped through the window and landed on the table in front of him. He removed the letter and sent off the owl. After quirking an eyebrow at his father he proceeded to open the letter. 

 

Brother,

I have news. One of the Slytherins of my year, Blaise Zabini approached me. He intimated that he was in a position to “loan out” Him. You have, no doubt, been reading the Prophet. You can figure out for yourself how he got Him. I don’t know what else to say. 

A week later someone cloaked came into Slytherin with Zabini, who was hardly being discrete. I think that he wanted me to know what was going on. He thinks that I have an interest in his newly acquired toy because I am always watching him. (I promise you that I don’t.) I listened outside Zabini’s door. I thought that someone should, I don’t know, bare witness I guess. It sounded bad Cassie, so we went in to try to help... It was horrifying. I am not sure of all the details of what happened. I did speak to him but he wasn’t terribly forthcoming and much of anything. Ask Uncle for details. He knows all that happened and he spoke to him for some time after sending us all to bed.

I know that I don’t have to tell you that this situation is intolerable. I don’t know how much more he can take… We need to do something as quickly as possible. Can our father help?

I apologize for the abruptness of this letter, Cass, but we are desperate for guidance. 

DM

 

The room, filled with nearly a dozen people, was absolutely still. All eyes were riveted on Cassius who, upon finishing reading the letter let it fall to the table. His stomach was churning, his heart hurt and he could feel his anger and his magic surge. Cassius did nothing to reign in either.

“Where is today’s newspaper?” Cassius asked softly, not looking up from his clenched fists. “I thought it was curious that the elves were unable to procure one for me…”

A copy of the day’s Daily Prophet slid into view in front of him. Cassius looked up to see Lucius eyeing him warily.

“We were not trying to hide this from you. We, Severus and I wanted to talk to you about it privately before you saw what was printed today.” Lucius sighed.

Cassius forgot to breathe as he saw the large colorful pictures that took up the entire front page below the title screaming:

Boy Who Lived, Minister Find Love and Family

The pictures below showed what looked to two happy, affectionate couples spending a shared day together. He watched, feeling nauseous, as a dark-skinned, handsome young man kissed and hugged and shared loving smiles with Harry Potter. Cassius never even noticed the other couple in the picture. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Harry and his… boyfriend. 

The pictures told the story of the day, (which was no doubt described at length on the following pages): Harry and the boy at The Three Broomsticks; Harry and the boy strolling happily down the main street of Hogsmeade Village, holding hands; Harry and the boy could be seen laughing at Zonkos products, trying on silly hats at Gladrags, and kissing over tea at Madame Puddifoot’s. 

Kissing. They were kissing. Harry looked happy kissing this other boy. The same boy who, according to what Draco wrote, hurt Harry only hours after these pictures had been taken.

“It would appear that Draco hasn’t been terribly informative about the severity of this situation with Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore in his previous letters…” His voice trailed away as if he had become lost in thought. “It occurs to me that none of you seem surprised that, upon receiving a letter from Hogwarts, I would become upset. It also occurs to me that I am the last to receive this news… Why is that exactly?” Cassius continued to speak without waiting for any answers.

“Draco has suggested that I inquire of Severus for details. If I had to guessssss… I would sssay that those very detailssss were what was under disssssscussion before I arrived…” Cassius’ voice began to descend into parseltongue as his rage grew. Everyone, even Voldemort himself, shifted uneasily. At the height of his insanity, Voldemort used to speak this way just before the Crucio’s started flying. No one had ever heard Cassius speak in such a manner.

“The situation is much graver than I had originally thought.” Severus began quickly. “Dumbledore is completely insane, without a doubt. He was more than pleased to brag to me about how, with Harry, he has finally succeeded in creating a perfect servant. How through the years he has selected “boys” to train as he saw fit. Apparently they were all failures before Harry and he believes that Harry is a success because he has been in control of him since he was a baby…”

“He claims that the Potters practically gave Harry to him after hearing the prophecy for a bit of posthumous fame.” Severus growled. “Complete bollocks. I… knew Harry’s mother very well. She wouldn’t have given up her son for anything.”

“And that’s why they had to die.” Cassius said evenly.

“Yes, he wanted his new ‘boy’ without complications. I think he prefers orphans.” Severus replied, glancing nervously at Voldemort before turning back to the young man.

“What method of control is he using?”

“I am unsure. Harry left a message for Draco to find in a library book.” Severus picked up a piece of parchment lying in front of him and motioned for Cassius to take it. Cassius merely gave Severus a pointed stare. “It tells a bit of what Dumbledore has done in the past and has, I believe, hints to help us figure out what is happening now.”

Cassius nodded slightly.

“Why is this happening now?” 

“Have you heard of Suadela Zabini before? They call her the “Black Widow”? Lucius asked, nodding towards the newspaper.

Cassius shook his head. “Should I have?” 

Rabastan Lestrange snorted. “Apparently her infamy hasn’t spread to the continent yet.” He laughed. “She might have bitten off more than she can chew on this one.”

Rodolphus rolled his eyes at his brother’s ill-timed humor, while watching closely as Cassius’ expression darkened. 

“Suadela Zabini is from a disgraced Italian family. They were rather clumsy in their attempts at emptying the vaults of some of the aristocracy there and moved to England following their exile. When we were in school the Zabinis tried to pawn off Suadela on the richest pureblood family they could find, but they didn’t have any takers.”

Rabastan interrupted, still snickering. “Her parents were half-bloods at best and they tried to present her as a pedigreed bitch.” Narcissa sniffed at his language. “Of course no one was interested!”

Rodolphus cast an apologetic glance at Narcissa and a quelling look at his brother.

“Her first husband was Harvey Ridgebit. He died before the year was out. She inherited a nice pile of gold off of that one.” Rodolphus continued.

“Yes, yes, yes,” drawled Franklin Nott. “Her second was Bertram Aubrey, third Julian Belby, fourth Ciceron Harkiss… we could name them all but the only thing that matters is there have been seven, they all died within the year and they all left her a pile of gold. No one knows who fathered her son. She claimed he was Aubrey’s but no one believes that. Looks absolutely nothing like him… of course Aubrey’s head was never the same after James Potter and Sirius Black hexed him back in Hogwarts…”

Lucius picked up the tale. “Everyone knows the course of her relationships. If she is successful at hooking a man she has complete control over him for as long as she wants. Some last longer than others, but they always end the same. If she and Scrimgeour marry, his life expectancy is quite short. Her interest alone doesn’t bode well for the Minister. Although he is the highest profile wizard she has snared to date. It appears her son similar aspirations.”

“What is being done about Suadela Zabini?” Cassius asked in a deceptively mild tone.

“No more than is ever done about her.” Lucius answered cautiously.

“If everyone knows these things than why has she never been prosecuted?” Cassius asked pointedly. 

“Suadela is very clever. No one has ever brought forth proof of any illegal acts…” Lucius’ voice trailed away at the sight of the table under Cassius’ hand beginning to smoke. His eyes darted over to the Dark Lord who was still watching impassively and without comment. 

Cassius slowly stood and focused his gaze on a point on the wall over everyone’s heads. “I want her destroyed. I want Zabini and her fucking ssspawn to suffer the indignities that they deserve for the crimes they have gleefully committed. I want it done in such a way that she will be disgraced for those crimes and rot for everything they have done.”

“Cassius.” Severus interrupted quietly. “There has never been any proof. The families-“

“Then I leave it to you to find the proof. She is almost legend, according to your stories. Where people talk, somewhere there is proof.” Cassius’ furious gaze settled on Lucius—his eyes drilling into the man he considered to be his father, with an almost physical force. “I am relying on you to fix this. Dumbledore will not win this round... I doubt that it escaped your notice that Scrimgeour was beginning to practically work with us with his ridiculous proclamations and arrests. What do you think will happen once he is completely under Albus Dumbledore’s control? If you can not or will not take care of this then I will be forced to do it myself. I cannot allow this situation to continue. No one else should be made to suffer from the attentions of a Zabini.”

“Severus, I want you in my study in thirty minutes. This discussion is not finished.”

There was a heavy silence in the room as Cassius, with shaking hands, snatched up the letter from Draco and summoned the scroll on the table in front of Severus and stormed out of the room. His fury like an almost tangible cloud obscuring everything so that he didn’t hear his father speak before the door slammed shut behind him. 

“How long has my son been infatuated with Harry Potter?”

 

-0-0-0-0-

 

Severus approached the closed door of Cassius’ study with trepidation. The discussion after Cassius had left the meeting room had been heated, to say the least. Most of the Council had been unwilling to risk their cause or their members to come to Harry’s aid.

Cassius’ emotional response to the situation was also discussed at length. The Dark Lord didn’t say much while the Malfoys told him of Cassius’ long standing admiration of the boy who lived. 

Rodolphus Lestrange was particularly unimpressed that they had allowed such sentiment towards the boy who brought about the Dark Lord’s downfall. The argument had pointlessly repetitive. Mostly berating the Malfoys and Severus for indulging Cassius and Draco in their choice of hero at which point Lucius suggested that Rabastan assume an anatomically impossible position.

Their subsequent shouting had been cut short by the Dark Lord himself, who merely called an end to the meeting. He too left with a copy of Harry’s message.

Not able to delay any longer, Severus knocked lightly on Cassius’ door and waited a moment before entering. Cassius was seated at the large table in the corner that he favored over the elaborately carved desk prominently situated in the impressive room.

Cassius’ private study looked more like the Hogwarts Library in miniature than the room of an eighteen-year-old man. Looking at the surrounding bookshelves, Severus recalled fondly the many intellectual “discussions” he had had when the boy had been much younger. They had always ended with Severus shouting and calling Cassius a mentally stunted dunderhead. Cass had always replied calmly that he would rather be mentally stunted then mentally stagnant. 

“Now we finally have the answer don’t we, Severus?” Cassius’ voice interrupted Severus’ pleasant reminiscence. 

Cassius’ eyes dropped back to the table top, where Severus could see the days Prophet. At his elbow was a stack of books, all of them on theories of magical persuasion. Beneath his hand was the largest picture of Harry, which showed the Boy Who Lived smiling happily at what was now an ashy whole in the paper.

Cassius smiled bitterly. “I should be pleased, shouldn’t I? To finally know why my father was the way he was and why he finally got better…” He was tracing the curve of Harry’s grin with his finger.

“What happened last night, Severus? I need to know everything.”

Severus described, in detail, the entire disturbing incident in Blaise Zabini’s dorm room and how shortly after retreating to Draco’s room he sent off his students to speak privately with Harry. He never elaborated on what they discussed. He didn’t want Cassius to know the extent of his shame.

Cassius listened in silence, his eyes never leaving Harry’s smiling face. “*The truth is rarely pure and never simple. I asked for everything, Severus.”

Severus turned away and began pacing furiously about the room. 

“What do you want me to tell you?” Severus ground out.

“I want the truth. Even if it is ugly and complicated, I need the truth.”

Severus slumped down on a chaise near where Cassius was sitting. “It’s my fault. His whole terrible life is all my fault. She died because of me and now he knows.”

“I swore myself to his service. I swore myself to him alone. I- I couldn’t look into those eyes and say no.”

“Explain.” Cassius snapped. He was looking at Severus for the first time since the potions master had entered the room. 

Severus drew a shuddering breath and said, “I was the one who told your father about the prophecy. When I found out that Dumbledore was having a meeting in the Hogs Head I listened in and overheard Trelawney give the prophecy. I went straight to the Dark Lord and told him what I had heard.”

“Did it never occur to you that my father was mad and shouldn’t have been in a position of power?!” Cassius asked incredulously. He was looking at Severus with disgust. 

“I-I just wanted him to be the leader that he had once been. We were failing, Cassius. The cause was failing. More and more laws were being implemented to ostracize our kind every day. Dark wizarding families were being exiled or sent to prison… those were desperate times. Your father was the only one strong enough to stand against Dumbledore and he was once a great man, a great leader.”

“Who, by that time, was only interested in his own mortality and had no interest in the fate of magic!” Cassius interrupted. “I still don’t understand why you all stood behind him when he started to lose his mind. Muggle hunting, honestly! What purpose did killing muggles serve? They mean nothing to us!”

“I know Cassius.” Severus insisted. “We followed him because of the blood and power of his line. We followed him in the hopes that he would get better and be the man who had once given us all such hope.”

“But he isn’t that man anymore, Severus. From what I can figure out, he hadn’t been that man for a long time and never will be again.” Cassius said. His face was dark with fatigue and something else that Severus couldn’t identify. 

“But he sometimes was that man. When he was with you, even after your mother died, he was Tom Riddle again.” 

“It wasn’t enough.” Cassius insisted. “The man who was my father is gone. If we are going to survive in this world everyone must accept that as fact.” 

“That is why we have formed the Council, as you know.” Severus sighed. “He has little power and is content with his new situation.”

Cassius closed his eyes wearily. He knew that the Council may have come to terms with his father’s ill health, but they also had high hopes for his own skills, magical and otherwise, to breathe knew life into their cause. He wondered if Harry would be amused by Cassius’ unspoken status as their “chosen one”.

“What exactly did you swear to Harry?” He asked, watching Severus closely.

“I swore that I would serve him alone. He said it was the ‘price of my redemption.’ I told him that I would focus on freeing him from Dumbledore and help him escape if that becomes necessary.” 

“Do you know what potion Dumbledore used to control Harry for the last two years?”

“The potion that the Headmaster used was, I believe, a variation of Amortentia. It did not inspire love in Potter, but absolute devotion and acted much as the Imperious did in the years prior. On an adult wizard it probably wouldn’t have so completely taken over, but on a child the results are devastating…” Severus lectured; slipping easily into his professorial persona. 

“How was he able to fight off the Imperious? He mentions incidents with Sirius Black helping to shake off the curse’s effects…”

“The Imperious Curse is truly an elegant method of control. It works beautifully on a vast majority of people and only a few can fight it off completely—only a powerful mind and strong will are able to break it.” 

“Black was his godfather and I believe that bond helped strengthen Harry’s resistance to the curse. The bond seemed to strengthen his resistance to all methods of control that Dumbledore used on Harry.” Severus continued.

“He describes a crystal in his letter. Do you know what he is talking about?” 

“Yes.” Severus said slowly. “It is a new addition this year to Dumbledore’s desk. I have only sat in on one of their meetings but Harry focuses on it intensely. He rarely looked at anything else while he was in the room.”

“It looks like it is made of a smoky quartz, but it has a red glow to it that I can’t explain.”

Cassius started and pulled one of the books off the pile he had already arranged on the table. 

“I have been researching the ritual my father used for his resurrection. I was concerned by the link that he and Harry share.” Cassius explained as he began paging through the dusty old volume. “There is a reason that all of the old families banish the bodies of their dead. The number of rituals that involve the bones and blood of family is staggering and some of those rituals have terrible results.” 

“You have had more contact with Harry than most,” Cassius said slowly. He paused in his research. “How has all of this affected him mentally?”

“He is unstable, to say the least. His emotions are chaotic, but his power and mind seem extraordinarily sharp. He reminds me a great deal of the stories of the young Tom Riddle…” 

Cassius laughed hoarsely. “Who committed his first murder and began dividing his soul at the tender age of sixteen. Watch him carefully Severus. Don’t let him go that far. We both know what that life has led to for Tom Riddle.”

 

AN: In Roman mythology, Suadela was a goddess of persuasion, particularly in romance, seduction and love. It seems an appropriate name for the notorius Madame Zabini.

*Oscar Wilde quote


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

So many people throughout history have had a warped view of the Founders. Just look at their chosen house mascots. The Ravenclaw’s majestic eagle is an interesting symbol. Eagles living high up away from everything in their aeries are hardly a part of the world. The largest chick in a clutch is known to kill the others to insure its own survival. They hunt and live, coldly self-contained. Eagles have always been widely used as symbols for religions, nations, and families. Rowena Ravenclaw showed a distinct lack of creativity for so brilliant a witch. When Hogwarts was founded it seemed as if every group and family seemed to use an eagle on their standard. I never did have much use for Ravenclaws. All that wonderful knowledge hoarded from the world serves little purpose other than increase the sense of awe that the rest of the world is supposed to feel for that most studious of houses. 

The Gryffindor’s lion is also a study of amazing good press. Their prides are violent, ruled by the strongest male that will kill cubs sired by any other than himself. Beautiful and powerful, lions seem to be the perfect predator. Perfect scavenger is more like. Lions in the wild steal their food almost as often as they catch it. Then again, Gryffindor hypocrisy has always shaped our world.

Next is my favorite, after my family’s house of course, the Hufflepuff’s badger. Badgers are nasty little beasts. Highly territorial, when sufficiently provoked they will literally tear to pieces an invader in its territory; they have been known to drive away wolves, even bears. Aside from a few admirable traits, I think that they are little more than glorified rats.

Last, but certainly not least, is Slytherin’s serpent. Snakes are misunderstood creatures. They are patient. They wait for the perfect moment to strike when the blow will cause the most damage, be the most successful. I think that people have just always been turned off by their being cold-blooded and afraid of a creature that can hide itself so perfectly. 

They say that Salazar Slytherin was a patient man. People today would be surprised and disbelieving of that. It doesn’t fit in well with the legend that has been manufactured about him. Sleazy, slimy, murdering, Slytherin. Now, some of that is true… but it doesn’t even begin to describe Salazar, the man. Clever and calculating, he was not someone to cross. Once wronged, he would wreak a vengeance that would make the bravest man tremble; but once he loved there was nothing on this earth that would sway him. He was loyal unto death. They say that Hufflepuffs are loyal but the badgers have nothing on a Slytherin once his dedication is won.

My father says that I am a credit to our esteemed ancestor. I do try.

 

-0-0-0-0-

 

On the outskirts of every agony sits some observant fellow who points. –Virginia Woolf

 

-0-0-0-0-

 

Theodore Nott, or Theo as he preferred to be called, settled down on a bench to one side of the Entrance Hall. In this spot he could see out the front doors (when they were open, weather permitting), the Grand Staircase, the doors leading into the Great Hall, and the entrance to nearly a dozen different heavily traveled corridors. 

In short, it was the perfect spot for a young man who liked to observe people. No one ever noticed him unless he wanted it and Theo liked it that way. He felt quite smug about all that he knew about Hogwart’s denizens. There was hardly a person in the entire school that Theo couldn’t get one over on, if necessary. 

If pressed, the students of the other houses would say that Theodore Nott was a loner. No more, no less.

His invisible man act worked very well for his newest task. Of all of his cohorts, Theodore could follow Harry the closest and stay the longest where Slytherins were unwelcome. Without Zabini even knowing that he was ever there, Theo had been able to interrupt several of his attempts at seduction over the week. He had “borrowed” Harry’s method of communication for the DA from the previous year and used it to call the closest of his friends to come and save the day. It worked well and his role remained secret.

At breakfast that morning, a subdued Zabini had told Harry that he would have to leave school for the afternoon to meet with his mother—this time without Harry along. This could only mean that the two were meeting to coordinate their plans involving their respective famous beaus. 

So Theo waited. He was good at waiting. Harry would eventually emerge from Gryffindor Tower, whether for food, or to study, or just to escape. One of Harry’s many secrets that Theo knew was that the enigmatic boy hated staying still. Harry’s restless mind, restless energy, restless magic, take your pick would always make it difficult for the Gryffindor to stay locked away. This led to late night wanderings throughout the hallways and tunnels of Hogwarts. Theodore had even seen Harry on more than one occasion loose himself in the trees of the Forbidden Forest. That was one place where Theo would not follow.

Theo sat in watchful silence as Harry’s pack of hangers on taunted and manhandled a second year Slytherin. Granger and Weasley were there, watching from the edge of the crowd. Weasley looked like he wanted to take control of the Slytherin’s suffering, while the mudblood was watching with a resigned look on her face. With his hand in his pocket he used his charmed coin and alerted the group. 

When Harry appeared at the top of the Grand Staircase he showed no surprise, only fury, at the sight of his friends and housemates in the middle of a pack of students harassing a young Slytherin. The visible fury faded and settled on annoyance as Harry elbowed his way through the crowd to get to the poor Slytherin at its center. 

“Tormenting the younger years now, Seamus?” Harry growled. “What could he have possibly done wrong for you lot to all gang up on him? Let me guess… he made a pass at Dean or did he just manage to figure out all those tricky second year charms before you?”

Finnegan’s face turned a vivid tomato red. Theo was fascinated, having never seen anyone change color so quickly without the help of a magic. The only thing that held the Irish boy back from attacking his own friend was a single sharp word from the bushy-haired muggleborn. 

It was impressive to see the amount of control Harry’s little trio had over their housemates. “If only they used their powers for good.” Theo snorted to himself.

Harry leaned over and helped the crying Slytherin to his feet. With a discreet wave of his hand, healed the other student’s bloody lip but left the blood. “Go on.” He said in a quiet, but carrying voice. “Go have Madam Pomfrey to see to that lip… or Professor Snape. A healing potion would fix you up just as well.”

With a pointed look from Harry the crowd parted behind the second year and the boy began to slowly make his way through the muttering students, only to freeze when Granger began to shout.

“What is wrong with you Harry?” Granger shrieked. “You aren’t acting like yourself and if you won’t tell us what’s wrong then we can’t help you!” She was completely ignoring the fact that she had just been sitting back and observing the assault of a twelve-year-old boy.

“I am just curious,” Harry began, ignoring Granger, “as to the purpose of this activity?”

“It was practice. Death Eater kids today, tomorrow the real thing.” Weasley retorted. He pushed forward to tower over his smaller friend. “He’s just a Slytherin, Harry. What do you care what happens to him?”

“That is excellent logic Ron. I know of a very clever man who used the same rationale, but he thought first the parents then the child. Although that didn’t work out so well for him, now I think about it.” Harry paused theatrically, to give the listeners a chance to puzzle out what he meant… well to give everyone but the Ravenclaw’s a chance to catch up. 

“But you really should have let me know what you were going to do. I could have conjured up some really authentic-looking white masks for you to wear. You know… just to be ready…” Theo was fascinated to see the Weasel’s face go from red to purple by the time Harry was done speaking. (Apparently there was someone who could change colors even faster than Finnegan.) The crowd of students began to shift uneasily as the full meaning began to sink in.

“Bloody hell, Harry!” Weasel shouted, looking like he wanted nothing better then to hit the other boy. Granger obviously saw the warning signs and quickly moved to stand between them. “What does it really matter? He will be a death eater just like the rest of his family!”

“That kid’s name was Bonham; a half-blood with a muggleborn mother and a historically neutral family. His many-times great grandfather was the one who founded St. Mungos, if I am not mistaken. Was it fun attacking him? I am just curious…” Harry asked, almost absently, as if he didn’t really care about the answer. 

“My, my, this looks like a delightful gathering! And it looks as if all the houses were invited. How wonderful!” Theo smiled when he saw Pansy move effortlessly to the center of the crowd. Harry’s forbidding expression broke a little at the sound of her voice. 

“Hello, Hermione dear.” Pansy exclaimed, oozing politeness that fooled no one. She moved languidly, sidling up to Harry, winding their arms together and leaning into his side. “What interesting robes! You must have purchased them at Madame Malkins’ shop. A lovely women, really. She tries so hard.” Pansy drawled, eyeing Granger critically. “Red certainly is a difficult color.” 

“I would give you the name of my modéliste, but she is terribly selective in her clientele and very expensive. Potters have always been well known for their noblesse oblige, but dear Harry can only be expected to do so much for the less fortunate.” 

Theo almost howled with laughter at the strange looks the other students began giving Granger and Weasley. They seemed to have begun reassessing the famous trio’s friendship.

Pansy turned towards Harry, dismissing the sputtering Gryffindor girl completely. “Harry my dearest love, Blaise has ordered me to fetch you. Apparently he is absolutely lost without your divine presence.” She rolled her eyes dramatically and continued, “Draco is about to go to Professor Snape to put Blaise out of his misery. It would seem that you left him quite desolate.” 

At this point Granger’s sputtering had increased in volume and shrillness and Pansy could no longer ignore her. Spurred on by the sparkle she could see faintly shining in Harry’s eyes, she turned back to the furious Gryffindor girl.

“Now Miss Granger, that is quite enough.” She said sharply. Her voice had gone from her normally saccharin smoothness to sharp and lecturing. “My mother always says that ‘1the gentle minde by gentle deeds is knowne; for a lady by nothing is so well betrayed as by her manners.’ Now I understand completely what she meant when she said that those not fortunate to be born into our society should be sent to finishing school before inflicting us with their presence!” 

“Pansy.” Harry interrupted what looked to be a very long winded and insulting rant, casting an apologetic glance at Hermione. “Didn’t you say that Blaise was looking for me?”

Pansy’s grip on Harry’s arm tightened as she began to steer him away from the motley group of students, towards the dungeons. She chattered nonsense until they were far enough away from the stunned group to speak freely. The last thing they could clearly hear was Pansy apparently lecturing Harry about his friends.

“…and Mother once told me that *’as for the virtuous poor, one can pity them, of course, but one cannot possibly admire them’. Remember that, darling.”

Theo smiled from his isolated spot. Merlin, he loved that girl. He had never known anyone but Pansy who could stun a crowd with only a few sentences. It probably had something to do with being completely shameless. 

His eyes had never left the crowd of assorted students. Theo watched their astonishment at Pansy’s, admittedly horrid, treatment of Granger. He was pretty sure that he almost caused himself an injury keeping from laughing out loud at their expressions. It definitely didn’t escape his notice that Pansy and Harry only moved away once the second year was out of sight, speeding off towards the dungeons. 

 

-0-0-0-0-

 

Severus swept into his private quarters and was completely unsurprised to find a gathering of students. He wasn’t even surprised to find Harry Potter settled in comfortably in the middle of a pack of his Slytherins. He was even less surprised that they were, once again, partaking of his liquor cabinet.

It was a small comfort that no one appeared to be hysterical, this time. What did surprise Severus was seeing Harry sitting comfortably, chatting easily with Crabbe and Goyle on his sofa.

All conversations halted when Theodore noticed the professor’s arrival. Only Gregory had the grace to blush at their invasion, before sending and uncharacteristically wide smile at his head of house which could only be attributed to finally being on friendly terms with his boyhood hero.

Harry only watched Severus closely, with hooded eyes and no visible expression. 

“So what did they say? What did Cassius say?” Draco asked eagerly.

“Was my father there?” Pansy asked with a hopeful, pleading look. 

Severus shook his head. “No. I believe that he is still traveling in Spain with…” His voice trailed off.

Harry smiled and asked “your mother?”

Everyone stilled and looked cautiously at Pansy who refused eye contact. Theo touched her shoulder and gave her a questioning look when she finally acknowledged him. She shrugged and turned away, pretending to read the titles of the books on Severus’ shelves.

“Pansy’s mother died when she was six, Harry.” Draco said.

“But- how?” Harry stuttered.

“Azkaban.” Theodore said darkly. “There was a raid on her family home and Mr. Parkinson, like the cowardly berk he is, claimed that his wife was the owner of any and all dark artifacts in their home. He said that she brought them in when she married him and he was too afraid of her to destroy them or report her to the ministry.” 

“And they believed him?” Harry asked incredulously.

“They believed the sack of gold that he gave to the aurors.” Draco growled. “Her trial was a farce and she was gone before the week was out—accidentally kissed is what they claim.”

“I spent most of my childhood being flooed between the Malfoys and the Crabbes and Goyles, or with the house elves.” Pansy said feigning indifference. “My father likes to travel. He says that I remind him too much of his pain in losing Mother…” 

Harry walked slowly to her side, taking time to gather his thoughts.

“I understand.” He said. Harry kissed her hand and smiled wryly, “Apparently my aunt was quite pained at the loss of my mother too. You and I will just have to be family then.” 

“I would like that.” She sniffed. “As my mother always said, (2) ‘there is no greater power than the power of passive dependency.’”

Harry laughed. “What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know.” Pansy gave a watery smile. “But I always liked the sound of it.” 

“You just like the sound of your own voice.” Theo said fondly.

Pansy glared at him then dragged Harry back over to the sofa and pushed him down into his original seat and lowered herself to the floor at his feet, leaning against his legs. 

In the silence that followed all eyes turned to Severus, who felt oddly like he was about to give a particularly unpleasant lecture. Although he had never had a student look at him the way that Harry Potter was looking at him now. The cold, calculating expression only appeared on the boy’s face when he was interacting with Severus. With the other students Harry seemed relatively normal.

How much of this was Harry Potter and how much of the boy was a fabrication of Albus Dumbledore. Severus shivered; Cassius’ parting words were still ringing in his head as those eyes watched him so dispassionately.

“Mr. Nott’s father and Augustus Rookwood will be assisting in the research on freeing Harry from the headmaster’s influence and Mr. Malfoy’s father will be trying to find evidence to discredit Madame Zabini.”

“That’s it?” Said Draco, disappointed in the lack of urgency.

Harry laughed. “What did you expect, Draco? Death Eaters swooping in to rescue me on Firebolts with their wands blazing?”

“No.” He continued slowly. “This is a smart plan. There is little risk for them and few people tied up and taken away from other duties. The potential gain could be great, but it is a gamble and not necessarily worth the effort… no this is a good plan…”

“How can you say that?” Draco shouted. “This plan is shit. You are stuck with Zabini for the foreseeable future and who the fuck knows what Dumbledore will do next!”

“Are you finished?” snapped Harry. He pushed himself up, off the couch, stepped lightly over Pansy and moved over to the fireplace where he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. He looked closely at each of the Slytherins assembled in the room. 

Severus could finally see Lily in Harry’s face, as he stood there with the light of the flames flickering over him. James Potter had been more robust in appearance--strong jawed and very masculine. Harry’s features were finer, more graceful than Potter’s could have ever been. Lily’s stamp was stronger than anyone had ever credited.

“You feel guilty.” Harry declared, interrupting Severus’ musings.

“You did expect a grand rescue, didn’t you?” Harry chuckled. “You are thinking like a child. The sufferings of a single person aren’t worth the ruination of a lifetime of work.”

Draco bristled at the implication that he was childish and lurched to his feet. “You came to me for help and I failed. What am I supposed to feel?”

“My gratitude. When I approached you I was completely lost… desperate. I had nothing.” Harry pushed off the wall and walked to Draco and gripped his wrist tightly. 

“For the first time in my life, I have someone to talk to--someone who understands my situation. You have given me a group of people willing to help me for no other reason than that I need help. You have also given me a group of people who, helping me is ultimately in their best interest. That is a motivation that I trust.”

Draco shifted uneasily. He looked into Harry’s face and was astonished by the honesty so openly displayed there. 

“You…” Draco spoke hesitantly, knowing how much he was exposing himself to Harry and everyone in the room. “Are you disappointed in me?”

Harry smiled and gave his wrist a squeeze before releasing his hold. “Of course not. You did far more then I could have had reason to hope for, and I thank you for it… all of you.” 

“Now if you all don’t mind, I would like to talk to Professor Snape. We have… things to discuss.” 

Pansy smiled brightly, clearly pleased at the idea of the two of them setting aside all of their issues and bonding. She hugged Harry before leading Draco from the room. Harry took time to shake hands with Theo and Vincent and let out a loud bark of laughter when Greg hugged him tightly as well. He smiled happily to them all as they walked out the door. His joy in his new-found friends was obvious. 

The second the portal closed his expression changed. Harry turned to Severus and the calculating look was back. 

Harry resumed his spot by the fire and the dappled light no longer highlighted the delicacy of his face, but the coldness in his eyes. 

“Tell me, Severusss.” He hissed. “Tell me of my allies and those who would still be my enemies.”

Severus shivered at the sound and found himself responding much as he would have before the Dark Lord. He almost fell to his knees at Harry’s feet.

Steeling himself, he looked at Harry and asked “Is this you now? The real Harry Potter.” 

Harry laughed mirthlessly. 

“I told you before that what I once was no longer exists. The little boy who cowered before muggles is dead.”

“Who are you then?” 

“Imagine Severus, being intimately connected to the mind of a brilliant, old, mad man. Every time he touches my mind more of him infects me and becomes a part of me. He has started showing me pensieve memories he has of Tom Riddle and has asked me repeatedly if I can see when Riddle went wrong.” Severus’ heart stuttered in his chest at Harry’s icy smile. 

“When he was my age Riddle experienced much of the same. Dumbledore is teaching me magic that he made sure was forgotten; the same way he taught Riddle. He bends our minds and makes it impossible to see the world outside his vision of it. In us he sees himself as he truly is, not how he presents himself, and is disgusted. Voldemort is Dumbledore and I am becoming both of them.”

“H-how does your connection to Voldemort affect you?” Severus asked hesitantly. Being connected mentally with Dumbledore was bad enough, but he was curious about how the Dark Lord’s recent improvements had impacted Harry.

“He blocks the connection on his end now. I still get flashes of strong emotion, but it is nothing to what it was. When he was unaware of himself, every time he used magic against me, every time he touched me physically I would get a flood of his memories…”

“But enough of this.” Harry said sharply. “Tell me about the Council. Who are the members and where do they stand with regard to me?”

Severus explained the role and function of the Council. And about how after the debacle in the Ministry of Magic, when Voldemort regained awareness of himself he founded the Council because he no longer trusted his own instincts. 

He explained about how the Dark Lord chose his most loyal and clever followers to lead the Death Eaters in their cause. Nott, Avery, Rookwood, the Lestrange brothers, the Malfoys and Severus now made decisions along with the Dark Lord and together they made all of the decisions regarding the war. 

Severus started to describe their mission when Harry interrupted him with a wave of his hand.

“I don’t care about your cause. I understand that a fundamental part of it is ridding the world of Albus Dumbledore, everything else is just words. I don’t care.” Harry tilted his head and examined Severus closely. 

“Make sure that this… Council understands that freeing me is in their best interests. Aside from Voldemort and myself, I don’t think that any of you has the power to stop Dumbledore in a duel-“

“And you do?” Severus asked incredulously. 

“Yes, I do and don’t interrupt me again Severus.” Harry growled. 

“Let them know that I am willing to do whatever it takes to end Dumbledore. In every way. If they help me, I will be your greatest ally. But if they choose not to, well then…” Harry smirked. “They might as well turn themselves in because with me at his side, in the world that he created, Dumbledore is unstoppable.”

 

-0-0-0-0-

 

A/N: Pansy’s character is an homage to Maggie Smith in the wonderful movie, Gosford Park. One of my favorite lines in the movie is her saying “Difficult color, green,” when she was insulting one of the other characters who she considers beneath her. It was a bit of improv, which apparently was very Maggie Smith. Love it! 

1–Edmund Spenser… slightly altered (lady/man, her/his). I also gave Pansy an *Oscar Wilde quote in this scene. Cassius gets most of the quotes, but this one fits perfectly and I like it coming from Pansy.

2-Marilyn French


	9. Chapter 9

Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand;  
Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!  
-Edna St. Vincent Milay “Second Fig”

 

House dynamics underwent major changes in the days that followed the altercation in the Great Hall. The Ravenclaws pulled back from the rest of the student body. They observed the other houses closely, as if attempting to identify their weaknesses and figure out just where and how the inexplicable shift had taken place. 

The Hufflepuffs were never a single organized group, but they too stopped venturing out beyond their individual in-house cliques. They seemed to be waiting for a sign from the Gryffindors that life at Hogwarts had returned to normal and they could resume their easy interactions with everyone.

Gryffindor House was in complete turmoil. Not only were they questioning the hierarchy of their unofficial leadership, but they began to question just who that leader was. Harry’s relationship with Zabini and apparent friendship with Pansy Parkinson left them questioning his loyalty to their house. Seamus Finnegan was quick to condemn Harry as a “snake lover” and was claiming that he probably was as nutty as the Prophet had reported in the years prior.

Most of that house didn’t really listen to Finnegan. What they were more concerned with was the split between Harry and Ron Weasley. Upon Harry’s return to Gryffindor tower that night, the two had a spectacular row about Zabini and Slytherin house in general. Weasley had shouted that Harry was the worst kind of traitor and told him that if he valued his house he would break up with the “slimy snake” immediately.

The fight that followed would become Hogwarts legend because of the amount of destruction caused in the Gryffindor common room, the length of the detentions earned, and total number of points lost for a single incident.

It was rumored that the Headmaster himself stepped in to mediate between the two friends after hearing about their fight. Weasley and Potter were seen entering the Headmaster’s office together and leaving nearly an hour later looking pale and chastened.

Slytherin House was the only Hogwarts house that was emboldened by the event. The Boy Who Lived defended one of them against his own house. No influential member of any other house had ever done such a thing before. 

Even more surprising were the friendships that Potter seemed to cultivating within Slytherin. Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson were often seen in Potter’s company within the house laughing, studying, and talking quietly. Potter also seemed extraordinarily comfortable with Malfoy’s goons, Crabbe and Goyle. No one had ever witnessed Gregory Goyle so animated as he was when he was with Potter and Vincent Crabbe seemed to be happy at having found someone who would play Gobstones with him for hours. All of his other housemates had long ago given up playing with the imposing boy, who was a very sore loser. One look from Harry Potter settled him down faster than any sharp reprimand from Malfoy ever had.

Even more baffling for everyone was the relationship that Harry Potter had with Zabini. In public, Zabini flaunted his power over Potter frequently and without hesitation. But in the relative privacy of the Slytherin common room, their relationship was indefinable. Harry was repeatedly accosted by Zabini when outside Hogwarts’ dungeons, but with liberal use of Harry’s unique version of the Imperious Curse Zabini believed that he was satisfied by the Boy-Who-Lived. Draco suspected, but was afraid to ask, that some days Harry was not in enough control of himself to take charge of the situation and Zabini truly was satisfied. 

For hours at a time they were observed sitting in the common room together with Zabini never once speaking to Potter. He would sit quietly and read while Potter got to know many of the members of Slytherin House. Occasionally Potter would even help some of the Slytherins with their school work (but was never seen working on his own). All-in-all the house’s opinion of Potter rose as each day passed.

Harry told Draco privately that maintaining control of his mind was easier in the Slytherin dungeons. He said that it was where Dumbledore’s voice was the quietest. Snape’s private rooms in particular were the most comfortable place for him in the whole school, even though Snape’s presence in his mind grew as the months went on. 

The dramatic changes in all the houses had, so far, gone unnoticed by the faculty of Hogwarts School. 

-0-0-0-0-

Draco wrote many letters to Cassius over the months--always looking for news and updates on Harry’s situation. Draco became more worried for his adopted brother as the weeks passed and Cassius’ letters grew darker in spirit and more abrupt. His friend wrote of his life with such circumspection that it was difficult to tell what was really happening outside Hogwarts, but the pressure Cassius felt knowing that Harry’s life may be depending on what he could discover was apparent. With each letter, Draco’s guilt intensified. 

~~~~~~

1# October

Draco,

Thank you for your letter. I always enjoy news from Hogwarts. It makes me feel as if I am there myself.

Research is going well, I think. Frustratingly slow, but well. Thank you for the inquiry. While ritual magic is fascinating and extraordinarily powerful, it is also largely illegal--the legal aspects being nearly as compelling as the rituals themselves. My dear brother, I did not think that you needed lessons in knowing that while *questions are never indiscreet, answers sometimes are. Your questions have been phrased in such a way that one not acquainted with my particular situation could, perhaps, become concerned with potential legalities.

You may tell your friends, on the word of one who has so recently completed his compulsory education, that learning is a lifelong process and quick results on so complicated a thing were never going to come with any degree of expediency. As much as I dislike speaking in clichés, patience is occasionally a virtue. Then again, I’ve always believed that (1) patience is the virtue of the bored. 

Our mother and father are well enough. They have asked me to convey their love and pleasure at the anticipation of seeing you again over the winter holidays. Father’s convalescence looks to be quite extended. He is considering withdrawing completely from public life. The thought pains him tremendously, of course, but I agree that it is the most responsible choice.

Your brother

~~~~~~

 

2# October

Draco,

No matter what you thought your divination professor’s words portend,*there is no such thing as an omen. Destiny does not send us heralds. She is too wise or too cruel for that. Your divination professor is a charlatan. Do not take anything she says to heart. *Education is an admirable thing; it is well to remember from time to time that nothing that is worth knowing can be taught. Divination is one of the many mysteries of our world that cannot be learned in a classroom and one should be wary of a “seer” who claims it is possible. 

Prophecy does little but hurt those who are foolish enough to believe in the prattle of those who practice such quackery. Not to mention that if the fates did choose to send us messages (if someone so unlikely did truly exist) I would think that their choice of medium would be more grand than a bug-eyed squib who forces inferior tea on her students. 

My studies have hit a bit of a roadblock, I am sorry to say. But I am optimistic that I will figure out my puzzle soon enough. Those that I have been working with have been saying my optimism is foolish but I think that *people who count their chickens before they are hatched, act very wisely, because chickens run about so absurdly that it is impossible to count them accurately.

Good luck in your Quidditch match this Saturday. I know that you will do well--and not because I read it in the bottom of a teacup. *The true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible.

C

 

~~~~~~~

2# November

Draco,

I have come to the conclusion that *fathers should be neither seen nor heard. That is the only proper basis for family life. I must admit that between Father’s ill health and my frustrations with my research I am feeling a bit low. 

Mother sought to cheer me up by dragging me to one of those horrifically dull soirees she enjoys so much. She even thought it a kindness to introduce me to a “lovely young lady” who was apparently “absolutely perfect” for me. All I can say about the girl is that *she wore far too much rouge last night and not quite enough clothes. That is always a sign of despair in a woman. I think that I will avoid the next party that Mother says I “must” attend. *It is always nice to be expected and not to arrive. 

C

~~~~~~

 

1# December

D,

*If there was less sympathy in the world, there would be less trouble in the world. I think that a great many mistakes were made in the name of pity. Be careful how you act on yours, my dearest friend, for you might end up causing more pain then you seek to alleviate. Over the past few months I have been the object of the misguided attentions of many of our various acquaintances. They wish for me to live as someone else—with someone else’s passions. 

*Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation. Am I to be condemned because I wish to live for myself?

On a decidedly brighter note, I have made a breakthrough in my research. The ritual that I have been studying is a ghastly one. I am taking steps that no one may recreate this particular atrocity. I pray that you will forgive me for what I must do. We will discuss it in detail when you come home on Saturday. I look forward to your return. I am in need of a friendly face. After all, *a true friend stabs you in the front…

C

 

-0-0-0-0-

 

Severus waited nervously, once again stationed in his usual spot in the headmaster’s office, for Harry to arrive at this last-minute meeting before the winter holidays. Severus had had the dubious honor in having been invited to attend many such meetings since the first at the end of September. Every single one had been incredibly uncomfortable, but something about this day seemed particularly unusual. 

Severus knew from Harry that Dumbledore had been completely gobsmacked when Harry informed the headmaster that the Zabinis had “requested” Harry’s presence during the winter holidays. No doubt that this meeting would be to give Harry additional instructions for what would likely be a very public and visible holiday for the boy who lived.

When Severus arrived on this particular evening, Dumbledore stood staring out over the school grounds appearing to be completely lost in thought. The elderly wizard had barely acknowledged Severus’ arrival.

As was usual, Harry entered as the clock struck the hour but instead of sitting on a conjured stool he stood as motionless as a statue in front of Dumbledore’s massive desk. The headmaster eventually turned and looked at Harry with an inscrutable gaze before conjuring a dusty-looking, dark velvet settee at his side. Harry moved mechanically to the new piece of furniture.

“I had a family once, Harry.” Dumbledore said softly, his hand reaching out to touch Harry’s wild mane when the boy reached him. “A sister and a brother… both younger than I… and we had a mother and father who loved us.” He gestured for Harry to take the spot nearest to him on the conjured seat. Severus watched the scene with fascination. He had never seen the headmaster in such an odd mood. 

“My dear, sweet Ariana was attacked by muggles when she was a child. They had somehow discovered that she was magical and tried to frighten her into performing magic. When that didn’t work they sought to punish the witch. My father intervened; his methods in stopping them were a bit… brutal. He died in Azkaban.” 

The silence ran long and the old wizard’s turned back to stare at the forest beyond his window. Severus nearly fell out of his chair when the headmaster began singing a lullaby in a high pitched, warbling voice:

There is a flower within my heart   
Ari, Ari   
Planted one day by a glancing dart   
Planted by Ari Bell 

Whether she loves me or loves me not   
Sometimes it's hard to tell   
But there are those that would share the lot   
Of beautiful Ari Bell 

Ari, Ari, give me your answer do   
I'm half crazy all for the love of you   
It won't be a stylish marriage   
I can't afford a carriage   
But you'll look sweet upon the seat   
Of a bicycle built for two 

 

“Ariana’s mind never recovered from the attack and she was frightened of her own magic.” The headmaster began speaking again. His voice started Severus out of his own thoughts. “Both her mind and magic were dangerously unstable after that day. Occasionally her accidental magic would lash out and attack anyone near her. That is how my mother died. After my parents were both gone it fell to me, as the oldest child, to care for her and my younger brother, Aberforth.”

“But, alas, that was the summer that I fell in love. Gellert was a brilliant, intense man. He was my equal in every way. I had never met someone before with the same intellectual curiosity as I and I was completely blind to his faults.”

“We were both so caught up in each other and in our research and our plans that I all but forgot my responsibilities to my brother and poor sister. Aberforth was justifiably angry, at my neglect of Ariana in particular. He hated Gellert.” 

“I was always considered the genius in the family, but my brother had clarity of vision that I didn’t have and he saw the darkness in my lover that I willfully ignored.”

“One day, Ariana had had a particularly bad day and Aberforth was angry and frustrated with me and started to shout the moment that Gellert and I entered the house.” Dumbledore paused and leaned his forehead against the glass. You could hear the tears in his trembling voice. “They both had short tempers and it quickly degenerated into them cursing one another. I got pulled into it as well. Ari came in when she heard the shouting and was hit by a severing curse. She died instantly. We were never quite sure who cast that curse…”

“Gellert fled and Aberforth never forgave me that I brought such a man into our home.” 

Dumbledore turned his glassy eyes on the boy, who was sitting so still at his elbow.

“Do you have any questions for me, my dearest child?”

“Professor?” Harry sounded lost. 

Dumbledore stood in front of the boy and rested his hands gently on Harry’s shoulders. 

“I see so much of him in you, Harry; the beauty and defiance and the power, such amazing power. A day will likely come when you question my treatment of you, and when that day comes I need you to remember, my dearest boy, that I have done for you what I wish I could have done for Gellert. I have made you into a hero for whole world to love. I have created a champion for the world and in return I have given you the world.”

“You will one day choose to sacrifice yourself for the betterment of others. Gellert thought he was making the world better, but his view was wrong. He never saw things as clearly as I. He never had the correct vision of the greater good.” He drew Harry into a loose embrace, resting his cheek on top of young Gryffindor’s unruly hair.

“I have been hard on you my boy. I have yoked your strength and tried to shape you into the man that this world will need once I am gone. One day you may hate me for my actions. It breaks my heart, but I understand.”

“This… holiday with young Mr. Zabini has made me realize that perhaps it is time for me to begin to give you your head, so to speak.” 

“Soon, little one, things will be easier and clearer. We won’t need our special meetings and you will be able to make your way without my guidance. I think that I am suffering from the blindness that all fathers must have towards their most beloved child.” 

“You, my son, are just what I think that Gellert and I would have had had we the great good fortune to have and raise a child. You have such strength and beauty and intelligence. I have given this to you, Harry.” 

“It pains me to think of you so far from me over the holidays.” The old man whispered, drawing Harry tightly against him. He pressed a hard kiss against the boy’s hair and breathed in his scent. Severus watched as the age spotted hand began to stroke the young man’s hair and trail down his arms and back before resting on Harry’s hip. Dumbledore’s fingers worked their way under the hem of the boy’s tee-shirt and looked to be caressing the skin below. 

Severus was thankful, for the first time, that Harry said he rarely felt anything but the draw of the unknown magic when in Dumbledore’s office. Severus shifted heavily in his seat, making sure that the chair beneath him scraped loudly on the stone floor.

Dumbledore’s head whipped towards the potions master. He blinked rapidly, as if clearing the fog from his eyes. He pulled away from Harry and released his hold on the boy. 

Dumbledore frowned at Severus before turning a gentle smile on Harry. 

“Go now, my sweet one. You must rest and prepare yourself for your trip. Keep your wits about you.” He said softly. Dumbledore reached out again to touch Harry but his hand halted and hovered over the smooth skin. “I will always take care of you.” He whispered.

Harry rose at some unheard signal and kissed the corner of the headmaster’s mouth. “Have a nice holiday, my Albus.” Harry said quietly before turning and quickly exiting the room. 

The headmaster watched Harry walk away with hooded eyes. When the door clicked shut he turned and looked at Snape with a closed expression. 

“Severus.” Dumbledore began, with the air of someone about to bestow a remarkable gift. “I believe that it is time for you to start taking a more active role in Harry’s development.”

“I plan on beginning to separate him from Blaise Zabini soon. Inviting Harry home for Yule was not something I had anticipated and I do not approve of them having him alone for so long.”

“So after the holidays I will begin distancing Harry from the young Zabini. Suadela is now firmly entrenched in my plans. If she were to attempt to extricate herself from the Minister it would greatly hurt her reputation and if she were to attempt to cross me by influencing Rufus the other way, well it goes without saying that he wouldn’t remain Minister for Magic very long.” 

The old wizards face hardened. “My boy needn’t subject himself to that Slytherin much longer. I underestimated how much his association with one of that house would unsettle the other students. I do not approve of some of the changes in my school. Harry is confused and no longer seems to understand a Slytherin’s position in society.”

“I never thought I would see the day,” he muttered “when a Gryffindor would take a Slytherin’s side over that of his housemates. It’s most disturbing and I will not have it.”

Severus bit back the raging comments he was shouting in his head. A Slytherin’s position in society, indeed!

“I have been making plans for him to meet with a powerful young French wizard and convince him of our cause. You might remember that Madam Maxim speaking of him during the tournament. He is of the St. Clair family and apparently an extremely powerful young man. I cannot let such a wizard of that caliber live in Britain without being sure of his allegiance.”

“I want you to find out everything there is to know about this wizard. I must know, Severus, if he is good enough for my Harry.”

Dumbledore turned away from Severus as he spoke; missing the look of shock that Snape couldn’t hide at the mention of Cassius and his smirk when ordered to discover the secrets of the young man that he had had a hand in raising.

 

-0-0-0-0-

AN: I didn’t use specific dates in the letters because I have no real interest in pinning down the timeline of this story in that great of detail. If any of you are bothered by that you can fill in the dates however you like.

-The scene between Harry and Dumbledore turned even more disturbing at the end, I know. I didn’t intend for it, but it fit. Dumbledore is confusing Harry with both his former lover and his dream of a son. There was a hint in Ch 6 that their interactions had gotten icky, so this shouldn’t be too surprising. (And this will not be a mpreg story despite AD saying that Harry would have been like his and Gellert’s son.)

-The song sung by Dumbledore is actually “Daisy Bell.” I substituted Ari(ana) for Daisy. My niece thinks that it is the greatest thing when you put her name into songs… Also the song was written when Dumbledore would have been around 11 so I guessed that Ariana might have been younger than 8 or so when it became popular.

(1)Evelyn Waugh  
* Oscar Wilde


End file.
